


Running Cold

by DenseHumboldt



Series: Running Cold [1]
Category: Captain Marvel (2019), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Amnesia, Blood Bond, Blood Kink, Earth Bound AU, Established Relationship, F/M, Family, Female Friendship, Friendship, Memory Loss, Post movie AU, Recovery, Returning Home, Yonvers - Freeform, amnesia!Carol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-02-25 23:08:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 81,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18711547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DenseHumboldt/pseuds/DenseHumboldt
Summary: Carol doesn't remember much after the crash, only that the life she has returned to doesn't feel like the one she used to have.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GrotesqueEnchantment](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrotesqueEnchantment/gifts), [PandoraSomething](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PandoraSomething/gifts).



> The absolutely generous and brilliant GrotesqueEnchantment told me I could use their fic "Amnesiatic Desires" as a prompt. And as I am an apologetic meglomaniac with a bloodlust for this ship I have decided to do just that.
> 
> The real, original, all killer, no filler fic is linked below. Please get caught up on it, kudos the ever lovin' life out of it and leave a comment before you crawl in the dumpster with me :-)  
> [ **Amnesiatic Desires**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18409130) (8609 words) by [**GrotesqueEnchantment**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrotesqueEnchantment)
> 
> Also dedicated to iluvenis, but for reasons that will be less obvious for a few chapters ;-) (and because I desire their constant attention and praise and I am trying to bribe them with a fic)

"You have to fly faster, Carol" the voice of Lawson echoed around her. She wanted to. She wanted to fly faster. She wanted to outmaneuver whoever was shooting at them. The aircraft that moved like no other aircraft she had ever seen. Her hands wouldn't respond. All she could do was look around. Through the canopy, she could see the green light of the bogey firing at her. There were also long sharp missiles raining down. Despite Lawson yelling at her from the back of the cockpit, Carol could do nothing as they were shot down.

 

They hit the water first, then the dirt. Each fanned out and surrounded them. They dug a trench so deep Carol thought the dirt might swallow them whole. There was an ache all over her body, a formless pain that engulfed her. She had to move, she had to pull Lawson out, she had to stop their craft sinking deeper into the earth. It shuddered around her. An awful metal creaking sound before it sunk further. She couldn't hear Lawson anymore. She tried to reach out in front of her and she was on fire. There was a moment of cold before the real pain started.

 

Carol woke up on her mattress on the floor. She had left the tv on and now only static was on the screen, washing over her with blue and red-tinged light. She moved her aching body. Sitting up to stare into the curving lines warping across her television. She couldn't remember what had been on TV before she fell asleep.

 

She sat for a moment her knees bent and her arms resting on them. She blinked her eyes against the blurred and double vision that nearly blinded her. The dull black pain of a migraine pushed behind her eyes. She reached out beside her bed, her hand rattling against the small cluster of empty beer bottles that had populated her bedside since her return from the hospital. She tried to focus her eyes so she could pluck one up. The one that still had half a stale mouthful in it.

 

She poured the warm sour liquid into her mouth, forcing herself to swallow. She had been sweating in her sleep and she badly wanted a shower, but hers wasn't working and she didn't dare sneak into Maria's house at 3 AM.

 

At first, she was mad that all her dad had left her when he died was the sweltering metal trailer he had died in. It had come in handy after her accident. Maybe old Joe Danvers had known something she didn't. She had parked it on Maria's front lawn and lived in it while she recovered. If she would ever recover. When she woke up in pain, her eyes screwed up and her memory missing the last dozen hours she felt like this would be the rest of her life.

 

* * *

 

After the accident, she had woken up in the hospital. Maria had been sitting on the end of her bed, knees pulled up to her chest and ankles on either side of Carol's stretched out legs. Carol was aware of a strange tingling in her limbs as if she hadn't used them in a long time.

 

"What happened?" She croaked her voice was cracked as she tried to sit up. Maria lifted her head to look at her. She smiled a relieved, heartbroken smile.

 

"Would you look at that? I told those doctors you were too stubborn to die."

 

"Where am I?" Carol asked trying to shake the pain out of her head.

 

"Haven't you hurt your damn self enough times to know what the ceiling of a hospital looks like?" Maria was mad at her, but obviously whatever had happened had scared her enough she didn't want to leave Carol alone.

 

"Where's Lawson?" Carol rolled to the side hating how dry her mouth was. She reached for the cup on her bedside table, but she couldn't make her eyes focus on it. She struggled before she knocked the cup to the ground. Thankfully it was empty. Maria rolled her eyes.

 

"What are you even talking about?" She stood up and collected the cup. She filled it with water before handing it to Carol. "Do you have any idea how much shit you are in? You took a bird up in the sky without clearance, then crashed it. You are lucky they found evidence of mechanical failure or you would be in the military's prison infirmary right now."

 

Carol shook her head as she greedily sucked back the water.

 

"We were shot down by a bogey."

 

"You were not shot down. Your engine failed and you nearly dug your own grave with the nose of a four hundred million dollar jet."

 

Carol started to push herself up but thought better of it letting herself fall back against the stack of thin pillows.

 

"Listen to the black box. You know why I went up there. You heard Lawson."

 

Maria opened her mouth but she was interrupted by the entrance of doctors and nurses.

 

Maria and Carol didn't speak again until she was on her way home.

 

Before that was lots of doctors and one terrifying meeting with an ophthalmologist to see if she had permanently damaged her eyes. Their conclusion was bafflingly inconclusive. 'Wait and see' had never been Carol's strong suit and it certainly didn't fit with her plans to fly again.

 

Before they discharged her she had been debriefed by a team from the Air Force and she suspected members of S.H.I.E.L.D. as well.

 

"Ms. Danvers, we just want to understand why you were flying an experimental aircraft without clearance." It was a suit talking to her. Carol was getting tired of the roundabout. She had tried to explain about Lawson and the Bogey, but everything she said seemed to fall on stony unmoving faces. Her concern was growing because she had yet to see Dr. Lawson and no one would answer Carol about her current location.

 

"With all due respect, I have told you, Dr. Lawson-"

 

"That's the problem Ms. Danvers Dr. Lawson was not with you."

 

"She was. If you listen to the bl-"

 

"Dr. Lawson couldn't have been with you, because no such person has been employed by our combined venture, nor have they been involved with P.E.G.A.S.U.S. at all."

 

Carol felt her mouth drop open. They were wrong. They had to be wrong because Wendy Lawson was her mentor. She was the one pushing for her and Maria. She was the reason Carol flew at all. Cold panic made her chest tight and talking impossible.

 

"Given your insistence, Ms. Danvers and the irreparable damage to the black box, we have decided you will be placed on medical leave pending a complete investigation. Until such time as we can determine whether you will return to active duty or receive court-martial"

 

She was in a state of shock until Maria came to pick her up. As they drove along the twisting highway away from the hospital Carol held her hand out the window feeling the air curve around her fingers like the lift on a jet nose.

 

"Would you stop that? Get your hand back in the car, didn't your parents teach you better?" Maria let go of one hand on the wheel to smack Carol's shoulder. Carol smiled a little to herself before looking at Maria with a cocked eyebrow. Maria knew her parents didn't teach her much. She caught Carol's look and lifted her hand in peace. "Even if they didn't; this is my ride and we keep our arms and legs inside the vehicle."

 

"Alright, Mom" Carol pulled her hand in, rolling her eyes a little. Deep down she liked Maria worrying about her.

 

"Watch the attitude. You know how relieved I am we aren't having this conversation on opposite sides of three-inch state issued plexiglass?"

 

Carol flipped her aviators down over her eyes, the sun was starting to make them ache. She rolled up the window and leaned her head against the cool glass. They were silent a minute.

 

"Maria, do you really not know who Dr. Lawson is?" Carol asked.

 

"I have no idea what you are talking about." Maria gripped the steering wheel, rolling her hands over the leather.

 

"Then what is it we do at Pegasus?"

 

"You don't do anything. You are on medical leave."

 

Carol closed her eyes against the motion of the car. She couldn't decide what it was Maria wasn't telling her.

 

* * *

 

Carol staggered to her feet, her head spinning. She was beginning to get used to a world where her brain worked only half the time. She reached out as she walked passed the TV and hit the power button. She heard the whine and click of the tubes shutting down. The trailer was hot. The small slivers of windows did nothing to help alleviate the humidity. Carol walked to the kitchen. A sad single counter and table. She poured the sour fuzzy beer down the sink and opened the fridge to get a fresh one. Cold sweat ran down the brown glass as she set it on the counter, scouring for a bottle opener. Not finding one she lined the cap up with the chrome edging of the countertop and hit it hard with the heel of her hand. The beer foamed over while the cap shot off into the filthy abyss that was beneath the cupboards.

 

"Sorry, Dad" Carol whispered running an apologetic finger over the gouge she'd worn in the melamine.

 

She slipped through the creaky screen door and let it bang behind her. She leaned her elbows on the worn wood railing and brought the neck of her beer to her mouth. The air was cool and the night was the dark blue of the country. They were far away from the big city and the base so there was no orange glow of light pollution to dull the inky black of night. Carol sipped the foamy beer feeling her nausea continue to wash over her. She closed her eyes. She could handle the physical symptoms, but there was something that nagged at her. Something that told her none of this was real life. Something that made every touch, every sensation feel like it was happening 3 feet above her.

 

"I don't think they recommend drinking with a head injury" a familiar voice called from the lawn.

 

"I don't recall you being a medical doctor," Carol answered back. She kept her eyes closed and took another sip.

 

"That's just common sense, Ace. Don't you want to get back on the proverbial horse?"

 

Carol opened her eyes. She was never sure if Dr. Lawson would really be there or not. She was. Hands in her pockets, mischevious smile on her face.

 

"They tell me you're not real" she looked passed Lawson keeping her eyes on the stars as they shifted and spun around her.

 

"I feel pretty real," Dr. Lawson joined her on the porch leaning beside her on the railing. Eyes also on the stars. "There is a big beautiful universe up there."

 

"Oh, yea. Think I'll ever see it?" Carol asked. She turned around and leaned her back on the railing. She closed her eyes against the spinning and the dull ache behind her eyes. She was so tired of everything hurting in this far off way.

 

"Maybe, if you start treating the problem with actual medicine. Or are you scared?"

 

"Scared of what?" Carol scoffed.

 

"Scared that you killed me and you don't remember it," Lawson answered. She sounded so real and close.

Carol opened her eyes and turned to say something, but Lawson was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we have Yon-Rogg. Kind of. Maybe Yon-Rogg
> 
> What's happening? Who even knows?

Of all the things the accident had robbed her of her career, her mentor, her 20/20 vision; it was speed Carol missed most of all. It wasn't just the sky that was off limits it was everything. Bicycles, motorcycles, her car. Hell even running with her eyes open proved difficult. Carol who had dreamed of nothing more than going further, farther, faster her whole life was now stuck to a sedate pace.

 

She hadn't left with enough time that morning. She cursed as she sat in the back of a slow-moving cab watching other cars bail on what was obviously a lane that was going nowhere. She watched as a scooter peeled out from behind them and slid between the lanes of cars. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe through her nose. She was getting sick again. She didn't know if it was motion sickness or a hangover. She wondered if this is what her father had felt most mornings.

 

She was beginning to think of him more and more now that she was sleeping in his trailer. She didn't like it, there were some things that were too painful to look directly at.

 

Maria had seen the yellow melamine and linoleum decor of the trailer, taken a good huff of the super-heated plastic smell of the inside and immediately begged Carol to reconsider.

 

"If you can sleep on my lawn in a deathtrap then you can sleep in my house," had been her exact words, but Carol needed the space. She already felt like a pet turtle stuck on its back. At least she could have her own place.

 

"You know what? We're good here just let me out," she handed a crumpled set of bills through to the driver and got out of the cab. Even though this was considered the 'big city' for them, it was really just a parasite town living off the base nearby. It was small compared to other places, but the effect when Carol got out of the cab was disorienting. She shook her head against the noises that had been deadened inside the car. She was out now and she had to keep moving. She had an appointment with a specialist and as someone who was in the middle of being investigated by the US armed forces, she had to appear to be cooperating.

 

They were three blocks away. She could make it. She could push through. She bent over hands on her knees and counted one, two, three. On three she straightened her body and took off at a run, hopping between parked cars to reach the sidewalk. She could do it. She could stay upright. She would not puke. The world split into doubles and triples of itself. A kaleidoscope of reflection. She felt the hot blush of nausea prickling along her scalp and her body was beginning to lean towards the brick buildings she was running past. She made it two and a half blocks before she stopped, panting with her vision narrowing to a pinhole. Her blood was pounding through her. She wouldn't be late. She refused to be late. She pushed away from the wall and moved at a slow jogging pace. She could see the bland oatmeal coloured building down the street from her. She knew military issue when she saw it.

 

She made it inside the cold glass foyer with one minute to spare. The receptionist ushered her into the beige and mustard patient room. A lean man had his back to her. He was flipping through a file, standing at the desk. The walls were covered in diagrams of exercises and musculature.

 

"You're late," he didn't look at her. He had an accent Carol couldn't place, but to her surprise, it felt like honey dripping down her spine landing somewhere between her thighs. He hadn't even said anything nice to her or in a pleasant way. Carol thought that she might like it if he was hard with her. She glanced at the clock. She was thirty-eight seconds late.

 

"Your clock is fast," she dropped into one of the chairs feeling a bead of sweat roll between her skin and her shirt. Her body felt foggy from the effort. She thought she heard the man laugh. A small breath of a laugh.

 

He turned to her, leaning against the desk his eyes still on her file. Carol immediately felt self-conscious. She felt aware of every centimeter of her skin, of the way her blood moved beneath it making her hot and flush. He moved so gracefully. She was taken aback by the observation, but it had crept into her mind. He wore scrubs in a colour of brown so dark it made the sandy gold of his hair stand out. They fit him well, so close to his body Carol could see his military build beneath. She shifted her thighs uncomfortably. This wasn't normally her. She wasn't normally this way. She didn't notice looks. She didn't feel her heartbeat between her thighs like some sort of sex deprived teenager. Except now her head was spinning, her body was hot and the small room was feeling even smaller she was so intensely aware of being alone with him.

 

She glanced at his face. He had a pair of glasses perched low on his nose. They were out of fashion, smaller and with a dark bridge. Part of her wanted to laugh as if she was seeing something that didn't belong with the picture. The other part felt gripped by the intimacy of seeing him with glasses. If what she had heard about him was true, which why wouldn't it be, he was a former flyboy. They were cocky and confident. If they needed glasses they would never admit it. Near perfect eyesight and a cool head were a pilot's main bragging rights. She had a better chance of seeing some flyboys naked before seeing them in glasses.

 

"So Ms. Danvers looks like you've been through some serious action," he said, at last, putting aside her file.

 

"You just finding that out now, doc?"

 

"I am not a doctor," he said picking up a tennis ball from the desk and tossing it in a gentle high arc. Instinctively Carol reached for it. She barely caught it as she tried to sort out which was the real ball and which was a double.

 

"I am filled with confidence," she said sarcastically. She turned the ball in her hands. She wondered what it was for. She glanced at him. He opened his hands and she tossed it back. He was close enough, his desk parallel to her chair on the adjacent wall, she didn't have to try. He caught it, rolling it between his palms

 

"Were you this sarcastic before the head injury?" He asked, crossing to the patient's bench. He tossed the ball to her again. Carol fumbled to catch it.

 

"Did you go to school to learn this?" She asked. He opened his hands again. Carol narrowed one eye trying to focus and make the toss. The ball fell short so he had to lean forward to catch it.

 

"Yes, among other impressive things." Carol swallowed. He probably didn't mean any of the things that immediately leaped to mind. He tossed the ball back to her. She had to use both hands to catch it instead of easily snatching it out of the air. "Sometimes it is the simple things that are the most informative.

 

"So this is all we are going to be doing?" She asked tossing the ball back to him. It went a little to his left but he still caught.

 

"You say that as if you are doing this well," he tossed the ball to her and it bounced off her fingers so she had to awkwardly bend to grab it off the floor.

 

"Did you learn this stellar bedside manner in school too?" She asked tossing the ball back. It went too hard, softly thumping his chest before rolling down his sternum into his waiting hand.

 

"You didn't strike me as someone who desired comforting," he answered, his voice made her insides crackle and she hated it.

 

"I want to know seeing you will make a difference." She looked at him, she wanted him to know that she wasn't going to just accept whatever he said because she was desperate and he was backed by the Air Force. She would form her own opinions.

 

"The fact you can see me is already a good sign. I have had patients with better attitudes overcome far worse," he met her gaze. She looked down for a moment. She knew she should be grateful, but she wasn't. She felt like she had been picked up, dusted off and plopped down in the wrong reality. He interrupted her thoughts by chucking the ball back at her. She caught it in an awkward gathering motion. He looked at her intensely before opening his hands to her again, "This time see if you can hit the red dot and make it bounce to me."

 

He indicated on the floor where a small red dot was coloured in faded magic marker. When Carol tried to look at it the circle spun around itself like Saturn and its moons. She shook her head and tried to lob the ball. It missed the mark and rolled behind his desk instead. He raised his eyebrows at her and Carol scowled at the dot.

 

After losing the ball he had her sit on the bench. He walked to his desk and made a handful of notes. When he returned to her he had taken off his glasses so she could see his eyes. He stood in front of her, his back ramrod straight. It made Carol want to straighten her own back. He reached for her gently putting two fingers on her shoulder brushing her neck and his thumb rested on the thin skin covering the top of her clavicle. He felt unbearably warm and foreign. He straightened his arm adjusting his position and released her. For two whole seconds, Carol had felt human again. He gripped a small penlight at eye level. He focused on her and began moving the light.

 

"Follow the light." He instructed watching her eyes. Carol was vaguely aware of the movement of the small light. It made her feel slightly sick like her stomach was shrinking suddenly up into her esophagus. She focused on his unusual yellow eyes. He paused looking at her seriously. "Is this you following the light or are you ignoring me?"

 

"I don't like the light. It hurts." Carol answered her eyes not leaving his. "I have never seen eyes that colour before."

Or had she? Everything about him felt achingly familiar while being completely alien.

"Okay," He clicked the light off and put it in his pocket. His fingers returned to her shoulder. Warm, remote pressure against her muscles. He bent his arm slightly so he was closer to her. This time he didn't lift his hand from her. He brought up his finger to her eye line. "Follow the finger this time, Danvers. Look at my finger not at me."

 

His voice was low and she still couldn't place his accent but she wanted to hear more of it. He was so close to her, so focused on her. She forced herself to look away from his eyes and watch his finger as it moved in a T shape. She was aware as she did of a tingle that began in her spine, fanning out across her back and down lower. Even though she couldn't see him she knew his eyes were focused on hers. It was an intensely intimate moment and she knew she was alone in it. She hoped he couldn't feel her heart beneath his fingertips and he didn't notice how she instinctively wet her lips as he leaned into her space. He had a small gold band on his left ring finger. She felt gnawing jealousy when she thought of him being married. She couldn't help picturing him coming home to some faceless woman. She hated her and it made no sense. Carol shook her head to free herself of the intrusive thoughts.

 

"Are you okay?" He immediately released her. He stepped back so he could observe her more fully.

 

"Just tired and a little dizzy." Carol lied. What she was, was an idiot.

 

"Okay, we'll end here." He reached for her chart. Carol felt an embarrassing thrill of excitement knowing they would be seeing each other again. She tried to step down on it. "Unfortunately, there is nothing we can do that is going to make this better fast. You are going to have to work for it, Danvers. And sometimes what I ask you to do will seem silly, but I need you to trust me that it will help you, deal?"

 

She nodded because she didn't trust her mouth at that point.

 

"What am I supposed to call you?" She blurted out as he turned to leave. She realized he had never introduced himself.

 

"Yon." He answered giving her a half smile before he left the room.

 

Carol tried to sort out what had happened in the cab ride home. She was certain she was losing her mind. She pressed her throbbing forehead to the cold glass. She tried to negotiate with her lower half. She felt like a small flame had been lit low in her stomach. She poured small facts into it in hopes of suffocating the flames. He was a medical professional, he thought she had a bad attitude, he'd watched her struggle with a tennis ball, he was married. The little fire crackled back; competence is sexy, men love women they can change, he would be so good with his hands, it's not like she wanted to marry him anyway.

 

She sighed and closed her eyes watching the light flicker over her eyelids. She didn't need a crush right now. She didn't need anything but her life and Doctor Lawson back.

* * *

 

Carol had cabbed to her appointment because Maria was on early mornings at the base. When Carol got home Maria's ride was in the driveway. Carol didn't hesitate to climb up the white steps and use her key to get into the door. She didn't want to be alone right now. Monica was sitting close to the tv with the volume turned down almost to nothing. Carol waved when she got in the door. She closed it softly recognizing all the signs of a sleeping Maria. She mouthed at Monica 'where's your mom?'

 

Monica pointed soundlessly to the back bedroom. Carol kicked off her boots as quietly as possible and hung up her coat. She kept one hand tracing the light coloured plaster wall as she maneuvered as best she could around the squeaking floorboards.

 

Maria's room was in shadows, the blackout curtains keeping out the sun. Carol knew the walls would be blue and the dark rectangles were band posters from all the concerts they had seen before Monica came along.

 

Maria was lying on her side in the swirling grey sheets of her queen-sized bed. The frame was deep brown wood, inherited from her grandmother. Unlike Carol, Maria slept in a grown up's bed. In the house, she was paying off bit by bit with her daughter down the hall. Some people might feel bad for Maria because she was a single mom or because her unconventional career would never make her wealthy. Carol thought Maria was a superstar. She was everything Carol couldn't be. Carol snuck through the room and started to lift the covers. She saw one of Maria's eyes open a sliver.

 

"Your boots better be off" she murmured half awake as Carol slipped under the covers.

 

"They're off," she said snuggling on her side so she could look at her friend's relaxed face. Maria had closed her eyes again. They lay there, Carol's breathing slowly sinking into rhythm with Maria's. She thought Maria was asleep again.

 

"So are you going to tell me all about your bad dream?" Maria mocked her.

 

"Don't you know I am living it?" Carol said, her fingers plucking at the sheet.

 

"You're gonna sleep on my nice ass lawn and eat my damn good food and still complain how hard your life is?" Maria asked rolling onto her back and stretching her shoulders.

 

"I just didn't see it ending this way," Carol knew she was sulking but she wanted to sulk.

 

Maria rolled back over pulling Carol into a warm, sleepy hug. Carol let herself be hugged.

 

"Stop talking like you are dead. It's annoying. The Carol Danvers I knew would never let a banged up skull stop her." Carol laughed, rolling so Maria was forced to be the big spoon. Maria dug her chin into Carol's shoulder, her arms tight around her stomach. "Although I like having an indentured babysitter for Monica. Who knows I might have time to find me a life while you sit around moping."

 

Carol wrapped her arms around Maria's knot of arms in front of her. She wished she felt less static between them. She wanted to feel like she was completely in the bed with her friend, not that some small part of her was being sad three feet above her head.

 

"What are you doing?" There was a small voice from the doorway. Carol peaked to see Monica's small barefoot frame in the doorway. Maria didn't even move or open her eyes but Carol felt her voice reverberate in her chest.

 

"Nothing baby, we're just being sad."

 

There were small footsteps then the pressure of small limbs climbing up onto the bed. Monica balanced over their tangled feet.

 

"Can I be sad with you?" She asked her eyes like big round dinner plates. Carol sat up, pulling out of Maria's heavy sleepy grasp. She caught Monica's middle. Pulling her down so she could cuddle her.

 

"Oh no Maria, LT is here. Her superpowers are overwhelming me" Carol tickled the girl's ribbed so the both laughed and squirmed. "You can't be sad when Lieutenant Trouble is around."

 

"If you two don't cut that out I will make you both sleep on the lawn." Maria's sharp finger jabbed into Carol's ribs making her laugh more. "Now you, share my baby"

 

"Brace for take-off!" Carol said wrapping her arms around Monica. She made a wooshing noise as she rolled them both over. "Engage the landing gear."

 

She deposited Monica between them so they were all curled together beneath the covers. The giggling stopped as Maria started to fall back asleep and Monica was happy to watch her mother with adoring brown eyes. Carol looked at them both and felt an open nebulous desire for something she couldn't remember losing.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the time before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a hot minute longer than I expected. I have a bit of a cold and my husband made me take medicine. You guys tried this stuff? Knocks you right out.
> 
> Hopping you guys like mysteries getting more mysterious.... And fucking

He had nearly fallen asleep waiting for her. They had returned to the ship, shared the shower, making each other promises that they would go to bed. Then Carol had slipped away promising to come back. Yon-Rogg had gone to bed, but he had been alone for more than an hour. He crept barefoot through their ship, checking each doorway half expecting to find her curled up somewhere asleep. A strange Terran habit she had of taking short sleeps in places that made the least sense. Instead he found her in her long dark shirt, bare legs glowing in the lights of the cockpit, framed by the darkness of the universe.

"Vers," his voice bristled with warning. He'd snuck up on her while she was working, standing at the console. He had managed to get so close by the time he whispered her name his mouth was a centimetre from her ear. She jumped pulling off her headphones and punching him in the sternum. He stepped back from the blow a dark light catching in his eyes. She could see a glint of tooth as his lip curled. She felt a cold tingle all over as her blood moved quickly down to heat between her thighs.

 

He stepped into her shoving her shoulders so she had to brace herself on the edge of console to stop being knocked backwards onto it. He was shifting his feet to strike again, his yellow eyes devouring her.

 

"Don't look at me like that" she said holding up a warning finger. "These controls are very sensitive and my ass should be nowhere near them."

 

"Then you should counter me more effectively" he stepped into her again, Carol was already off balance from his first attack her hands braced keeping her suspended above the ship's controls and feet already arched on to her tiptoes. Yon braced his knee between her thighs and she had no choice but to fall forward onto his shoulders. His thigh was firm between her legs, pushing against where she was hottest. He gripped her upper arms firmly. He pushed her down onto his well muscled leg. Already she could feel a tingle low in her spine.

 

"You should be in bed," he growled looking down at the way her teeth worked into her lip as she fought the slow grinding of his body against her.

 

"Why, what am I missing?" She asked her lips parting slightly between each syllable as she tried to breathe around a moan. She managed a smirk even as she felt her muscles clench against his insistent rocking. 

 

He was so focused on her mouth he nearly missed what she said as he tore his eyes away from her panting breaths to her flashing eyes. If she could talk he was going too easy on her. He slid his hands down her arms slipping around her waist to where her hips were astride his thigh. He pushed his palms flat against her, canting her more firmly against him, rubbing her more thoroughly. He could listen to the way she sucked in air, breaking into shuddering exhales for the rest of his life. He hoped she never stopped fighting him, because he wanted to keep winning.

 

She pushed her fists into his chest, lifting her head so he could see she had closed her eyes. Her lip was caught firmly between her teeth. She was breathing as heavily as he was, but she was closer to crumbling.

 

"Vers, you won't win if you can't even look at me," he chided her. He was good at calling her Carol except when they were like this. When he was on edge, she wondered if he knew how much power he gave her just by his choice of words. It thrilled her now, when he would whisper it against her skin. She had found new intimacy in the name.

 

She reached between them. Now, he couldn't rock forward against her without pressing himself firmly into her palm. He grunted the first time he made contact with her. He tried to adjust so he could continue pushing her closer to the edge, but she pursued him. She lay her head on his shoulder curving herself around him so she could have her ear against his rushing pulse and speak quietly against his ear.

 

"Why fight it, Yon, how can I win when you've bested me so thoroughly?" She adjusted her hand so she was curved around him, he couldn't move without stuttering across her palm. She could tell he was breathing heavily, trying escape into meditation. Carol, too, was trying to stay above the demands of her body. She wanted to watch Yon suffer more than she wanted her own pleasure. "You've defeated me. I am completely at your mercy, you can make me-"

 

He growled his hands returning roughly to her shoulders, he stepped away from her quickly keeping her at arms length with quaking muscles. His eyes were closed and he had his cheek caught firmly between his teeth.

 

"Really, Yon. How can you win when you won't even look at me?" She asked and she felt him tighten his grip. He opened his eyes and looked at her with such intensity she thought she might melt.

 

"We agreed you'd come to bed over an hour ago"

 

"I got distracted," she shrugged. He groaned low in his throat. Changing tactics, ever the commander, he pulled her gently towards him bringing her palm to his lips.

 

"Has the wife of my blood grown tired of me?" He murmured against the sensitive skin. His tongue traced the small white scar on her palm. "Has she forgotten the promise her blood made to me?"

 

He sunk his teeth into the fleshy mound below her thumb, sucking where his teeth marked her. Carol forgot how to breathe as she watched his mouth move deliciously over her skin. He flicked his eyes up to her, watching her stare helplessly at him. The wicked grin he hid against her wrist snapped her out of it.

 

"Your blood is mingled with mine," she said feeling the slight increase of pressure against her pulse point as she spoke. She smiled knowing she was having an effect on him. "Is your legacy to leave work undone?"

 

He released her, laughing at her well landed blow. He struck quickly, scooping her into his arms so fast she had no warning of his intention.

 

"Speaking of incomplete legacies," he kissed her hard. He began to walk towards the cabin at the back of the ship. Carol let him carry her, but his words had made her feel cold. She knew what Yon wanted. The Kree thought generationally and Carol, well Carol didn't. She had no interest in righting the failures of her parents with a family of her own. She didn't even know what her body would be capable of after a decade of photon energy invading her cells. He must have noticed her stiffen because he stopped kissing her and she lay her head on his shoulder. When they reached their cabin the deep fire he had lit in her had dwindled down to coals. Smouldering coals, but coals none the less.

 

He lay her down on their bed, he placed his palms flat on the mattress on either side of her head so he was hovering over her looking down into her eyes. She tried to smile at him, brushing her knuckles over his forearms.

 

"I have said something to upset you," he said matter of factly. He brushed a knuckle over her cheek.

 

"No, I just-" Vers' eyes swept over the headboard. She still thought she could hide from him. He dipped his head, moving to kneel beside the low bed so he could kiss her gently and deeply.

 

"I won't be lied to," he paused to feather kisses from the bridge of her nose to her ear. Her hand knotted into the front of his shirt. He could feel her warming to him again. He drew his teeth against her earlobe. "If it is my mouth that is offensive then my mouth shall pay penance."

 

Carol laughed around her breath hitching. Only a Kree could use the word penance in their dirty talk and have it sound like the most wonderful promise in the world.

 

"I just worry you are ready for something I may never be ready for," she breathed the words out as he lay waste to her clothes, his mouth finding all her hidden soft places. "Something my body might not even be capable."

 

Yon-Rogg paused with his mouth on the taut skin above her navel. He licked a fast stripe from her navel to her heart, bringing his body along hers so he was pinning her to the mattress.

 

"This would be a venture of both our bodies, wife of my blood, you cannot separate our successes and losses." He kissed her mouth again, she could feel every warm precious inch of him pressed against her. "In all things, bodies that share blood are one."

 

He would not let her think of it anymore. He made thought impossible with his clever hands and mouth.

 

Later in the dark, Yon-Rogg sat awake as his wife slept. The word never failed to thrill him, his wife. Carol never called him her husband, but accepted the epithet he gave her. When her memories had been awoken on C53, when all his betrayals had been laid out for him, she had become adrift between two cultures. He knew she felt the bond between them, had even agreed to repeating it when she was not in dire need of his blood to survive, but she did not see them as married in the ways it meant on her planet. This suited Yon-Rogg as marriages forged in paper seemed inconsequential compared to one made in blood. He could cut out his tongue for the way his words had made her disappear earlier. He wanted her more than he wanted the traditions of his people. To the point he had abandoned Hala to travel with her. Protecting his blood from being spilled. His mouth though on occasion forgot where his loyalties lay and asked for things it shouldn't.

 

She stirred and turned her eyes to him.

 

"Are you sleeping with your eyes open or do the Kree normally have staring contests with the tops of people's head?" She asked folding her arms over her pillow so she could rest her chin on her hands. He smiled at her running his hand down her ribs.

 

"I was thinking we should return to C 53 soon." She furrowed her brow at him. He didn't know why he said it, but once the words left his mouth he thought they sounded true.

 

"You hate going to Earth."

 

"I don't."

 

"Yes you do, you literally walk around looking like there is a bad smell you can't find." She mimicked his face, scrunching her nose and narrowing her eyes.

 

"Does that mean you don't want to go?" He asked a smile breaking his serious look.

 

"I want to go, but I need-" Yon-Rogg silence her with a single finger on her lips.

 

"The galaxy will never be at peace. There will always be more to do. This is a decision you have to make here, not up here," he tapped two fingers against her sternum before moving them to her forehead. She smiled at him with her eyes.

 

"Then I guess we're going to Earth."

 

Carol felt Yon-Rogg slip closer in the darkness, tangling his limbs with hers, pulling her against him so he could find her mouth. Carol felt lighter thinking of being home again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do we know what's happening yet? Have we guessed the turn?
> 
>  
> 
> Leave your guesses below I am desperate to steal better ideas from everyone lol kidding. Probably
> 
> Also if you want to know where I steal my ideas from check out the brilliant fic below  
> [ **Amnesiatic Desires**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18409130) (11345 words) by [**GrotesqueEnchantment**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrotesqueEnchantment)

It had started on Earth, Yon-Rogg was certain of it. Carol had argued against him, saying that he was always blaming Earth for things. He wasn't he argued back to her. Except for this one case where he was. She wasn't as attuned to her body as he was. She filtered out so many small signs, ignoring small hurts to fight the problems of a much larger galaxy. With her eyes always on the stars, how could she see what was happening inside her? That was why Yon-Rogg kept his eyes on her.

 

On C 53 they had stayed with her friend, sleeping in a horrific hollowed out tube of metal set back against the tree line. Yon-Rogg tried to remain distant from the other Terrans. He could feel their distrust, but the horrible living conditions had forced him to be more sociable than he had planned. He wondered if Carol had devised it that way when she had insisted they stay there. He considered one night when they were sweating into the mattress in the hellish airless place, just picking up and sleeping on the ship. Carol had laughed at him as he tossed and turned; didn't he always say the mind was the escape from discomfort? Couldn't he summon his fortitude? Where was his perseverance?

 

He pushed her shoulder so she fell on her back, rolling easily beneath him. He was too slick with sweat to mount her properly. He tried to keep his body above her, he didn't want to sully her with the unearned perspiration pouring off his skin. She had laughed at him again, pushing her body up to meet him so he had to lift himself higher to escape her, until he was kneeling in front of her, between her knees. She'd shaken her head at him. Slipping off the mattress where it lay on the floor she had walked naked to the small galley. She was golden and pale in the moonlight. Despite her dreary surroundings, despite the flush of heat all over her skin and the way her hair was a mussed sweaty halo around her head Yon-Rogg thought he would conquer every planet between here and Hala to be allowed to see her like this. Kree were not partial to deifying the flesh, but he thought the way he felt when he looked at her came close. If the all he was allowed from this moment was to kiss the arch of her foot he thought it might be enough.

 

The ice water came as a shock to him. He had been lost in thought when she returned to him a small bundle clutched in her hands. As she had neared him she pushed it into his shoulder causing a cascade of cold water over his back and chest. His body pulled in air as fast as possible as goosebumps rose on his super-heated flesh. Carol had laughed at him again. Lying down, she balanced the small bundle on her stomach, small rivulets of water running down her skin. He reached for the cold cloth but she held it away from him. Protesting he had to go get his own.

 

They had run ice over each other, licking the water that poured off their skin with hot tongues and mating for long soaked hours. He had emerged from the trailer at dawn feeling cleansed in the cool morning air. He saw the sunrise pink and golden over the trees. He understood why Carol drew so much power from this planet. It was beautiful in a primitive way. He wondered if they would return here when they stopped wandering the galaxy. He didn't know if Carol would be happy if they did. Her new body would live longer and age differently than the ones she loved. He had seen the heartbreak in her eyes when she observed how tall the young one had grown. The feeling of loss that haunted their first few hours before Carol adjusted to the changes in her friends.

 

The door had creaked behind him and she joined him on the small porch wrapping her arms around him and pressing her forehead into his back.

 

"Thank you" she had murmured dropping soft kisses in the hollow of his shoulder blade.

 

"For what?" He asked covering her two small hands with his own.

 

"For convincing me to come home," she said turning her cheek to rest it on his back, her face turned towards the dawn light. He squeezed her hands, wishing despite the torment of their living conditions, that their every morning could have peace and a view like this.

 

The heat had never left her body. She had run hot since C 53. He was convinced of it. He had seen her tire more easily. She could push through when there was a threat, but as they would return to the ship she would fade. Crawling into the shower, coming out dripping frigid water while he forced her to towel off feeling the heat of her through the rough fabric. She would shiver despite the fire that poured off her at night.

 

Her body could burn out most infections and illnesses. He had tried to convince himself that was all it was, some Terran illness that had to be sweat out but it continued on.

 

He knew he was hovering and driving her crazy. He could see himself doing it, but he couldn't stop. He was her protector and she was hurting herself by refusing to see she was ill.

 

They were on a Kree border planet when it gathered to a head.

 

There was a revolution in progress. The planet dwellers were rising up against their Kree colonizers. Carol and Yon-Rogg knew what that meant. Even though their elite unit had never been deployed on a cleanup mission, it was common knowledge what was in store for the insurgents. Carol had wanted to go. Yon-Rogg wanted her to rest. She pushed him off and they fought. She had charted a course and left Yon-Rogg to watch her through the corner of his eye from the co-pilot's chair.

 

They had landed planetside, a thousand words unspoken between them, and began to move through the thick brush of the jungle planet. They had met with the leader of the revolutionaries. Word of Captain Marvel had been carried across the universe. She walked among the small pack of rebels and they were awed by her. Carol never noticed or pretended not to, while Yon-Rogg rolled his eyes. He kept scanning the horizon looking for signs attack was imminent. There was no sign of the Kree ships and they agreed to sleep inside the rebel camp. It was another suffocating night, but this one had no relief. Yon-Rogg had sat watch all night. He saw her toss and turn, her face scrunched against the heat below her skin. He realized as the night deepened around them she was glowing. Her skin was so hot with unreleased energy that she illuminated the small shelter they lay in like a moonbeam.

 

When dawn emerged he could still see the fire beneath her skin, but Carol wouldn't even look at herself. They had to go she insisted. The Kree ships were landing, their clean up crews were being unleashed on the huddled masses of the rebels and their families.

 

Carol had been magnificent. She had charged into battle and blistered through the ranks of mechanized sweepers meant to annihilate civilian-based threats. The Sweepers were meant for battles where the populace would be under armed but possibly have large numbers. At the very least that meant limited Kree soldiers had landed with the ships.

 

Carol cut a hard line through the ranks of droids. It would be a quick battle with the way she burned through them. As he crouched beneath a rocky outcropping protected from the sweepers' fire he heard one large metal beast groan and begin to collapse as Carol punched out the gears in its knee. It fell to one knee in an awkward position before tipping sideways. Carol had tried to stop it but it had made impact, crushing her beneath its massive weight.

 

Normally this would have posed no challenge for Captain Marvel, but Carol was weakened and she found herself trapped beneath the automated metal beast. Yon-Rogg had turned in time to see the skeleton flash in the early light and tip onto her. He cried out. Charging through the crowd, mowing down friend or foe who crossed his path. He reached her to find the machine pinning her to the earth, she was struggling against it, incoherent words of rage pouring from her mouth as she pushed against it.

 

He lifted it from her by manipulating the gravity with his gauntlets. She pulled herself out from the dent in the earth, around them the insurgents gained the upper hand. They had done enough. They had to leave. He could no longer leave her in control of the situation. She had crawled along the ground barely able to stand.

 

"We're leaving," he said letting the sweeper fall back into its hollow.

 

"The fight isn't over," Carol had called over the sounds of battle. She tried to stand on shaking legs, her skin was still illuminated.

 

"Look at yourself," Yon-Rogg crouched next to her kneeling form. He grabbed her hand and held it in front of her face. "Are you controlling this, Vers? Is this you in control?"

 

He could barely hold her she was so hot. She slumped against him. The world was burning around them. He didn't know what to do. He could carry her, but it was a far distance to their ship and he would be moving slowly through the hail of bolts as likely to be shot by an insurgent as a Kree.

 

"Listen to me, we have to get out of here. This is not our battle." He spoke low shaking her so her head lolled back and forth. He saw her knuckles whiten as she clenched her hands. She nodded. At last admitting defeat at the hands of her own body.

 

They moved from the field, Carol was able to rally her strength for a retreat but as they crossed further into the tree line she began to fade again. Her last steps into the ship were stumbling. Yon-Rogg had barely been able to move her to their cabin, filthy and bloodied, he lay her on their bed. A bed they had lain in side by side, the valley of the mattress an unbreachable chasm between them for weeks because her body scared him. He was scared now as he left her, whispering words to her that were no more than half formed promises. He knew he had to get them off world to a healer. His first thought had been Herkarsis, but there was no way he could map their course that would get them there quickly.

 

They had flown deep into Kree territory. There was nowhere that he could take them where they would find friends. How could he bring her to anyone? How did you explain your mate was more star than woman? Who would show them mercy when they saw she was a supernova waiting to happen? Fear clawed at the insides of Yon-Rogg. Fear that she would burn to ash before they got help, fear it was his blood that was failing her. He got them out of the atmosphere not an easy feat with Kree orbiting the planet on high alert. He had masked their call signal as a medical ship, spoke to the gatekeepers in a refined Kree dialect. He managed nonchalance, even a hint of boredom. A finely crafted mask he could slip on easily. He had worn it every day on Hala, for six years, when he had been his wife's protector but not her lover.

 

He hid them away in the star system. He had jumped from his chair the second he could do so. He moved down the hall to where Carol was still collapsed on the bed. Her eyes were looking around as if she wasn't truly seeing anything, he could see the milky whites of her eyes and the pupils glowing blue. He began stripping her armour away, the air above her body turning to steam. He could barely grapple with the material it was so hot. She groaned as he lifted and moved her body. She had no sweat left, her body was dry heat like tinder before a fire. He lay her back down gently, stripping away his armour. Once he was down to his inner clothes he reached for her. He rolled her heavy body towards him, curled her against his chest. His skin screamed against the heat, but Yon-Rogg barely felt the pain. He carried her to the shower. He stepped under the frigid spray of water. And sunk against the tiles so they were both sitting on the floor curled up as he doused her in icy water. His skin crawled against the feeling of soaked cloth sticking to him. Everything about the moment felt hopeless and wrong. The water rolled off her body and pooled around them hot and steaming. She roused slightly. Her eyes blinking away the blue lightning.

 

"When did we get in the shower?" She murmured into his shoulder.

 

"About the time I realized you were going to set the bed on fire if you stayed there." She laughed, but it sounded choked. She was between his legs, lying with her back against his chest.

 

"I think I am sick, Yon," her voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. The water would have drowned it out if he hadn't felt it vibrate in his chest. He pressed his lips to the burning skin of her temple. He wrapped his arms around her. He knew to his core he would let her burn him alive.

 

"You're just running hot, Vers" she hummed and tried to stretch away from him so she could look at him, but the small motion exhausted her and she fell back against his chest.

 

"See I know it's bad because you called me Vers." He brought his hand up and pushed the wet hair away from her face.

 

"What other name can I give you, my star? It is the name I first knew you by. Vers is the name I gave to the blade I honed."

 

"And Carol is the name Joe Danvers gave me because I was going to be his joy," her voice was growing quiet against his chest.

 

"And I only call you Vers when I don't want to share you with anyone." She didn't answer because she had fallen asleep again.

 

They could not stay in the shower for forever. he needed to keep her cold, to stop the fire that would not be smothered beneath her skin. He carried her, they both dripped water down the narrow hall. He lay her in their bed again watching as the halo of water that soaked into the sheets evaporated into the air. He just needed to keep her cool long enough to form a plan.

 

He chose a planet, Ledas, it was in the same system. It was a land of ice. Temperatures so low survival was almost impossible. He landed them on the planet, feeling the ship immediately settling into the deep snow. He was wrapped in as many layers as he could. His body would not survive these temperatures on its own. Carol, he dressed in her suit, it was the only thing that did not singe and curl against her skin. He dropped the gangplank. He had strapped her to the stretcher from med bay. He could no longer stand to carry her against his body, the air around her moved in currents so she shimmered. He pulled them slowly away from the ship, the stretcher made a slithering sound as it moved along the ice and snow. Water began to soak into the makeshift sled as her body began to melt away the surface of the planet.

 

He stopped a ways away from the ship and began with stiff hands to pack the snow around her body, at first it melted as quickly as he could pile it, but as the planet began to freeze both of them the snow started to build around her. The lightning still glowed beneath her skin, but she no longer steamed. Yon-Rogg's body shuddered against the harsh elements. The exposure would kill him.

 

That had been two cycles ago. He had watched the sun rise and set over Carol buried in the snow, twice. She didn't cool, she didn't stir. She merely lay as if dead. If the light did not continue to move beneath her skin he would have thought she was frozen. He was nearly ice. His body was so cold that every twist and turn of cloth against him felt like one thousand fiery daggers, his body sweat, his confused nervous system in overdrive. He resisted the urge to peel the layers away from his skin. He knew from his training it was a trick of the ice that would lead to death.

 

As he watched the sun paint the snow red and gold at the end of the second day he had felt like there was no hope. He would freeze beside her, as she slept in the ice he would remain beside her as if he was carved from stone. In the madness that came with night, a voice began whispering to him. It told him that there was one place he could take her, a place that knew her body and had saved her from this same brink before. He had fought against it. He cursed his weak blood. His blood that was failing to save her. He was consumed with the fear that Vers had burned him from her system and required a stronger partner. A better soul to carry her.

 

By the sunrise of the third day, the voice had grown petulant. It screamed against their vigil. He was a man of action and yet he sat there. He was without direction, without hope. Was he satisfied to let the snow swallow the wife of his blood while he was cut away by wind and ice?

 

He stumbled frozen from his place, the place he had not left for three dawns. He staggered against his screaming muscles into the ship, moving without clear thought to the console. He sank before it. Forehead pressed to the unfeeling metal. Before he could think again he began to broadcast on the common signal.

 

"YRT56-XXG7, YRT56-XXG7," he repeated the code that was ingrained in his very cells. "I will send you my coordinates if you agree to Parlay."

 

He released the controls and slumped against the console, feeling the ice like daggers melt from his body.

 

* * *

 

Awash in the blue-red light from the TV static Carol awoke panting and freezing.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hold, Release, Capture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love all the guesses. This chapter might clear it up for everyone.  
> Important to note the butter thing doesn't work and is bad for you don't do it (That will make sense in a minute)
> 
> First shout outs to all the fics I am obsessed with right now  
> [ **Of Soldiers and Warriors**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18667699) (16733 words) by [**Elisha_Boltagon**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisha_Boltagon)  
>  \- Absolutely compelling cross over of Captain Marvel and Guardians of the Galaxy. A little dark, but worth it for the ethical conundrum at the fic's heart.  
> [ **House of Memories**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18696685) (5395 words) by [**AnonymousMink**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymousMink)  
>  \- This one has just started and in my opinion DOES NOT UPDATE FAST ENOUGH MINK (hint hint) but the characters are spot on and the chemistry puts me to shame  
> [ **Sleepless Cell**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18540112) (1097 words) by [**GrotesqueEnchantment**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrotesqueEnchantment)  
>  \- Short but sweet. I have been thinking about this one a lot.

The sun was just coming up in Maria's kitchen, glinting off the dishes sitting in the rack and making Carol squint against the yellow light that kept getting in her eyes. Monica was between Carol and the counter standing on a stool. There was an old melamine bowl in front of them, three egg yolks already swimming in it. Carol had a fourth gripped in her palm, Monica's hands were wrapped around hers guiding the egg.

 

"Okay, LT guide us in," Carol said as Monica aimed over the centre of the bowl. She drew apart the cracked shell and let the egg slop out. "Okay, now we wash our hands."

 

Monica held her hands out in front of her, egg glistening on her fingertips as Carol moved her arms under her armpits. She groaned as she lifted Monica off the stool and walked them, Monica's legs swinging, to the sink.

 

"Hit the water!" Carol laughed as she tried to keep the girl up in her arms. Monica's swinging feet dunked into the cabinet before finding the other step stool Maria kept there. Carol's eyes were aching in the early light, but she squinted away the pain. Carol grabbed the soap awkwardly and moved it over Monica's hands before putting it back. She dropped a kiss on the top of her head before the girl could stick her hands under the cold water, "save some for me."

 

They rubbed their hands together laughing at the squelching sound of soap between their fingers. Carol let Monica turn off the tap as the handle wavered in front of her. Monica looked up at her, with her serious questioning face.

 

"How come you only know how to make one thing, Auntie Carol?"

 

Carol laughed leaving Monica to stand at the sink as she went back to the bowl. She reached a couple of times for the whisk, her teeth catching her lip as she tried to focus on which was the real handle.

 

"I was busy becoming a pilot. Besides you only need to know how to cook one thing, if you make it better than anyone else."

 

"Mom's a pilot and she can make lots of things," Monica eyed her suspiciously. Carol wondered if she asked this many questions when she was Monica's age, but then again she didn't know who she would be asking them to.

 

"Well, Maria had a mom to teach her."

 

"Why doesn't my mom teach you?" Monica asked. Carol laughed trying to picture any cooking lesson Maria tried to give. Instead, her mind flickered to a different memory. A different place. A voice sighing in her ear as different hands took a bowl away from her. Carol tried to shake it off. These small glimpses weren't real. They were the sounds of the TV worming their way into her dreams, or like Lawson a figment of the damaged connections in her brain.

 

"Your mom has better things to do than teach me to cook," Carol looked at the bowl and then to fridge. They felt a million shaking miles from each other. "LT grab the milk."

 

Monica rolled her eyes and moved to the refrigerator. She came back with a carton of milk grasped between her hands. She climbed up on the stool once again in place between Carol. Together they poured a little bit of milk into the bowl. It sloshed slightly as Carol braced the carton and Monica struggled to pour it with both hands.

 

"What's wrong with you anyway?" Monica asked. Her voice was demanding. Carol wasn't sure how things had been explained to Monica, but she could sense the girl's frustration, kids always knew when they are only getting half the truth.

 

"I got in an accident," Carol forced herself to smile. "They think I hit my head."

 

"Why don't they know?"

 

Carol was whisking up the eggs in the bowl trying to think how to explain to Monica in a way she would understand. She felt a tingling behind her. She turned her head slightly and saw Lawson leaning against the door. Carol's eyes went wide and she slowed her whisking. Monica looked at her confused then followed her eyes to the doorway. She looked back at Carol with eyes that demanded 'what are you looking at?' Carol tried to blink away her surprise. She started whisking again.

 

"What should we put in these omelets? Do you want cheese?"

 

Monica made a face. Lawson was gone from the doorway. Carol tried to breathe away her discomfort. It was one thing when Lawson came to her at night it was another if she appeared when she was awake and sober. Carol turned on the pan on the stove. She kept whisking.

 

"I only want eggs."

 

"You can have anything you want in here and you only want egg?" Carol asked, she raised her eyebrows and shook her head. "You don't know what you are missing."

 

Carol poured the egg into the pan and let it sizzle for a minute. She went to wash her hands again. She struggled with the tap. She really didn't want to ask Monica for help. She heard a small gasp followed by a wail. Carol turned around so fast she was dizzy. Monica was grasping her index finger and crying. She had pulled the stool next to the stove.

 

"Monica," Carol went to her quickly. She took her hand and looked at the angry red mark forming on her fingertip.

 

Carol bit her tongue. She wanted to be mad that Monica had touched the stove. Didn't she know better? Carol tried to breathe through. Kids didn't know better she tried to tell herself. Carol let go of Monica's hand and struggled to get the margarine out of the fridge while the girl sobbed. Carol wanted to sob too. She finally managed to grab the plastic tub and get it open.

 

"Stick your finger in here," Carol said. Monica sobbed and shook her head holding her hand tight to her little heaving chest. Carol grabbed her hand and stuck her finger against the greasy cold of the margarine. Monica wailed louder for a moment before quieting down. The omelet was starting to burn, but Carol didn't care. She sunk down against the cabinet, her head dizzy and aching. "I am sorry LT. I am not good at this I am sorry."

 

Carol held the cold heavy tub against her, the little girl's finger still pressed in it. Carol had her eyes pressed shut. She felt Monica's sobs soften. A small hand reached out and patted the top of Carol's head. She pushed the heel of her hand into her temple. She wouldn't cry. Everything hurt more than it should. She was trying to move on, but she wasn't made for taking care of a kid. Maria was doing so much for her and all Carol was doing was ruining everything.

 

There was the thump of the door and the sound of keys. Carol let go of her head and stood up quickly. She awkwardly reached to turn off the element, putting the tub of margarine down hard on the counter. Monica was left holding out her greasy hurting finger.

 

"Do I want to know what is going on here?" Maria's voice came from the doorway. Monica immediately moved to her mom, her finger held out. Carol put her head down sheepishly.

 

"Carol burned me," Monica said in a sad voice holding out her hand. Maria shot Carol a look before inspecting her daughter's finger.

 

"Does Carol have superpowers, baby?" Maria asked running her hand over her daughter's curls. Monica pouted then shook her head. "Then how did she burn you? I think the stove burned you and you know better than to touch it, right? Remember what I said, I need you to take care of Auntie Carol when I'm gone. I'll get you a bandaid, go watch TV for a minute."

 

Maria gathered her daughter's small hand against her lips and kissed it better. Monica left the room, shooting an apologetic glance at Carol who was scraping the pan into the garbage.

 

When they were alone Maria leaned against the counter. She was watching Carol carefully. Carol didn't want to look at her.

 

"Cereal would have been fine."

 

"I know I am sorry, I messed-" Carol could barely finish her sentence when Maria pulled her into a hug.

 

"I mean you don't have to try so hard. Pretending nothing is wrong won't make it better. You have to save this energy for doing everything that dreamy doctor tells you to," Maria let her go, elbowing Carol in the ribs, Carol scoffed wiping at her eye.

 

"He isn't a doctor," she said.

 

"Oh, but he is dreamy? You know it was a shot in the dark, but-" Carol elbowed Maria back. "Oh, come on you should see the look in your eyes every time you come back from an appointment."

 

"I don't have a look," Carol glanced at her shoes trying to keep a straight face.

 

"You do. You look like you want to punch something."

 

"That's not a good look," Carol laughed. She knew Maria could see how pink her ears had gone.

 

"Hun, that is the Carol Danvers' look of love," Maria sang out shimmying against the counter. Carol laughed harder, bumping her friend with her shoulder. For a minute her head didn't hurt.

* * *

  
Yon was making notes, his glasses low on his nose. Carol was trying not to look at him, every time she did she thought about what Maria had said. It was true she felt a rush being near him. She looked forward to their appointments. She tried to say it was because she wanted to get better, that she was earning her way back into the sky.

 

"You're quiet today," he remarked, looking over his notes. He glanced up at her. "Is everything okay? Anything happening out of the ordinary?"

 

She thought about telling him about Lawson showing up, but she shook her head instead. She didn't want to admit she was worried if he knew he might transfer her to another specialist. He was still looking at her with his searching, yellow eyes. She glanced at him, up and down, her eyes faltering as they always did on the wedding band.

 

"Do you and your wife have kids?" She asked he looked taken aback.

 

"Excuse me?"

 

"Sorry. I just- I am trying to take care of my friend's kid. Pay her back while she lets me stay with them. I might be terrible at it."

 

"Do you want children?" It was Carol's turn to look taken aback. Yon raised his hands, "I am a medical professional, I am allowed to ask you personal questions."

 

"That's pretty far away from my eyes, don't you think?" She answered raising her eyebrows.

 

Yon stood up from his desk, coming to stand in front of her. She was beginning to recognize this small ritual as the end of their appointments. She dreaded it as much as she enjoyed it. She knew he would briefly place his hand on her shoulder. He would hold the light and watch her eyes. She would feel like her spine was melting into the floor. She would want him to never stop looking at her.

 

"I am only asking because it seems to be bothering you. Your mental state is part of your recovery." He lined their bodies up, his words made small pinpricks over Carol's skin. One day she would ask where his accent was from, then move there. He turned the light on and Carol flinched. He flicked it off immediately, his brow furrowed. "Are you still experiencing light sensitivity?"

 

"Sometimes," Carol said she closed her eyes against the small starburst of pain behind her eyelids.

 

"And pain?" Yon moved to his desk to make notes.

 

"Usually," she answered, rubbing a hand over her shoulder and stretching her neck.

 

"Okay. Move to that chair," he indicated a piece of furniture tucked into the corner beside the bench. Carol had ignored it every time she was in the room. It seemed shoved out of the way. It was less a chair than a zig-zag contraption of pads.

 

"You might need to give me a refresher course on chairs," she said eying it suspiciously. She wasn't sure how one would sit in it. She heard the clink of Yon putting his glasses down and the small huff of air she knew was him laughing.

 

"Sit towards the wall. Shins on the lower pads" he was direct. A clear, low spoken instruction that made her knees feel weak. She nodded, trying not to turn pink. She had a dirty mind. He hadn't said anything strange. This was her.

 

She sat in the chair, it inclined her body forward stretching out her back muscles if she were to lean into the face rest. She realized once she was seated that he was going to touch her. Her stomach clenched and she swallowed against the dropping feeling of her blood moving downwards. She heard him moving behind her, she felt attuned to him. She could feel him close the distance between them just by the way she felt the awareness ripple over her back.

 

He was close to her now. Carol tried to clench her thighs together but met resistance from the central post of the chair. He reached for the collar of her jacket. He wordlessly began to pull it away from her and Carol helped him shrug it off her shoulders. She immediately felt goosebumps rise from the cool air over her skin as she sat in her tank top.

 

"I can't prescribe anything for the pain, but increased tension in your neck and shoulders won't be helping the migraines," his voice was quiet behind her.

 

She felt the warmth of his palm cover the back of her neck at the top of her spine. She tried to make a nonchalant sound of agreement. It sounded more nervous squeak than she meant.

 

"Lean forward," he said, gentle pressure from his fingers on her shoulders reinforcing his instruction. Carol did as he said, wrapping her arms to the pad in front. She dug her fingers into the padding trying to control the small quake she felt in her muscles.

 

"Do you need me to-" Carol didn't know how to finish the sentence. Did he want her to take her shirt off? His fingers pushed the straps slightly.

 

"I can work around it," he said his voice above her, he was speaking quietly. The room felt even smaller with him standing so close over her. She wondered if he noticed the small circle her hips made into the seat as she tried to shake the desire that was building between her thighs. She thought she could die of embarrassment, while also thinking she would die if he didn't touch her soon.

 

She heard the small click of a cap and the sound of his hands moving over each other. His thumbs found her spine, his fingers curving over her shoulders. There was the cold slip of lotion slowly warming between their skin. His hands moved in unison over her tight muscles, sliding smoothly. She was aware of him leaning into her, the heat growing between their bodies as he worked her muscles. She hadn't realized how cramped she had become until he started to work the tension from her shoulders. It was delicious pain and sensation as his strong hands gripped into her. Carol bit her tongue to stop a moan escaping her.

 

He moved two fingers over the tightness in her neck. They moved easy over her slick skin. Carol felt the pain in her head dull as he worked the tension from her body. She let herself relax into the headrest. Yon moved deeper into her muscles. She felt the sharp exhale of breath she had come to recognize as his laughing.

 

"What?" She murmured against the pillowed rest. His fingers found the base of her skull working the tension there.

 

"I have just never met someone who had to be so persuaded to relax" his voice vibrated in her chest as he leaned further into his motions.

 

"Are you saying I am uptight?" She asked she heard the challenge in her voice.

 

"Everyone has a weakness," he answered his voice made her wish he would show her what he meant. He rolled his knuckles into her spine and she curved her back into the motion biting back a groan. He slid the flats of his palms back over her, moving up her neck and slipping his hands into her hair. He pulled her hair lightly and Carol's knees clenched against the chair.

 

He finished by squeezing her upper arms, lifting her shoulders, compressing her muscles and pulling her slightly off the headrest. When he released her Carol didn't know how she could stay upright.

 

"Is the pain better?" He asked matter of factly as he moved back to his desk. Carol didn't trust her mouth so she just made a low agreeable sound.

 

By the time she had unfolded herself from the chair and shrugged her jacket back on, he had left. She felt the sticky sensation of the lotion trapped between her skin and her jacket as raw and intimate as if he was still touching her.

 

* * *

 

She must be dreaming she thought as she felt the weight of a warm body pushing into her. She was laying back on her mattress and Yon was over top of her, their legs were tangled together and her fingers were carding through his hair. It was dark in the trailer, but she could make out his yellow eyes and his smirk. He devoured her mouth in hot heady bursts before pulling back to look at her. She could feel him pushing into her hips and beneath his shirt the familiar brush of dog tags hanging between them. He was a soldier then, she thought. She couldn't remember how they got here so this must be a dream. His mouth moved to her throat, his tongue licking hard into the tight skin. He scraped his teeth over her collar bone as he moved down her body. Carol rolled her head back, her world narrowing to a meaningless spot in the ceiling. She barely felt the tug on her shorts as she lifted her hips to him. She could think only about the breath on her skin and the way she could feel the intermittent pressure of his lips as he kissed over her hip bones. She moved her legs together, trying to ignore when they met no resistance, trying to stay in this half dream world and half memory as she felt the pleasure build between her legs. She wanted this so bad. She wanted him to be the one to make her feel it. She shuddered as it rocked over her too fast, as insubstantial and disembodied as a dream.

 

* * *

 

Yon-Rogg knelt in the wide white expanse of the SI. He had not been here for almost five years, the brightness made his eyes ache and his head pulse. He did not remember how he had ever found this place inspiring or comforting. His wife was standing in front of him, or at least a superficial likeness of her. He was filled with rage that the Supremor would wear her face in front of him. Though he kept his face relaxed he knew the SI felt the anger in him.

 

"You have been busy, Commander," the SI said, looking him up and down.

 

"I no longer hold that rank," Yon-Rogg said flatly. He had walked away from Starforce. Left everything he had built behind so he could stay by Vers' side.

 

"You said you wanted to parlay. To make a deal?"

 

"I want you to save her."

 

"And if we do?"

 

"Until she is well, you will have my service."

 

"With our medicine how do you know we could not have her cured in a day? What is that to us? After all the effort to come to get you?"

 

"If it were that simple I wouldn't need you in the first place."

 

The SI smiled at him. They walked in a circle considering him from every angle.

 

"I have missed you. You see the truth in ways others refuse to. I have felt the loss of you almost as much as that of our weapon."

 

"You will accept my deal?"

 

"How do you know we will release either of you when the time comes?"

 

"You could not hold Vers before, you won't be able to hold her once she is well."

 

"And what of you Commander? Will she save you as well?"

 

"Yes." The SI nodded considering his words. The Kree already had them in their grasp. They had the upper hand.

 

"You have faith in this ancient bond of yours. You know I despise the vestiges of your barbaric ways. I raised my children better." The SI came to a stop in front of him. "Of course I will accept your deal. You shall be my dog of war, Son of Rogg. I have already put a tracker in you, so don't dream of escape. Not until the weapon comes for you. If she can stomach you after everything I shall ask you to do in my name."

 

Yon-Rogg's hand moved to his neck, feeling the foreign coldness of a metal implant. He bristled at the intrusion. He had not considered they would put an obedience chip in him, it had never been necessary before.

 

"And my wife?"

 

"You weren't very careful, were you, Commander? You put her at risk."

 

"Vers is strong."

 

"The problem with preternatural powers is they don't obey the natural order of things. Her body identified a parasite. It's trying to destroy it."

 

"Where did this parasite come from?" Yon-Rogg asked his brow furrowed as he tried to think of all the places they had been. All the things they had done. The SI smirked at him.

 

"To put it delicately, from you."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fire

The Supremor ejected Yon-Rogg from the simulation so quickly he felt like he had been flung against the med bay bed. His body convulsing causing his head to hit against the thin padding and his legs to kick out. He immediately rolled to the side his empty stomach heaving. He felt like his body had been wrung out, every inch of his skin burned and felt too small for his body.

 

There was someone by his bed, dressed in medical scrubs. They were consumed by the machine displaying his vitals and were ignoring him. With one hand Yon-Rogg began pulling the sensors off his skin with the other he reached out and locked the medic in an iron grip.

 

"Where is my wife?" He demanded in a voice that had not been used for days crackling deep in his chest. The arm in his hand was thin and frail, they flinched beneath him turning wide purple eyes on him. He felt a warning crackle beneath his skin below his right ear a moment before the pain hit. His grip tightened as a bone-deep agony shot through him, Yon-Rogg grit his teeth refusing to make a sound.

 

"Let her go," he knew the dry sardonic voice that commanded him. It made his stomach clench against the impossible. He uncurled his fingers from the young medic.

 

She took two steps back from him but stayed hovering with a watery look in her eyes. The owner of the voice moved around the bed, her face turned away from him. She crowded the young medic against the sensor, her eyes flashing.

 

"Would you let a rabid Sakaarian garbage rat get this close to you too? You won't survive here long if you let your guard down around the scum," the medic nodded, her petrified face shining and scurried from the room.

 

"You're dead," was all Yon-Rogg could manage looking at her profile. It all seemed so similar; the dark bowed lips, the high cheekbones, the long black hair. She was in black training gear instead of her Starforce uniform.

 

"Do I look dead?" She asked turning away from the empty space where the medic had been, fixing him with a hard stare.

 

"What did they do to you?" The coldness in her look morphed into disgust at the concern Yon-Rogg could hear in his own voice.

 

"You have no right to ask that, Deserter."

 

"They have Vers. You need to take me to her," Yon-Rogg said barely above a whisper. He straightened his body, trying not to harbour the sting of being called a Deserter by his old comrade.

 

"They told me you had bonded to the Terran," her words were filled with bile. Yon-Rogg furrowed his brow. She didn't seem like herself. She seemed like a strange mirror of his subordinate.

 

"The SI bonded us," he corrected her slowly and precisely.

 

"The intention was a half bond. To save the weapon. You were the one that took her blood in return. The Supremor would have never sanctioned it. It's barbaric."

 

He wondered what she knew. How much she remembered. Where her loyalties still lay.

 

"Minn-Erva, take me to Vers," he tried to imbue his voice with a calm he didn't feel, to summon in her some instinct of obedience.

 

"I will take you to her, but only because it was my instruction to do so. Not because you asked," she began to walk away from him, letting him struggle with his aching slow body. She paused near the door, looking over her shoulder. "And I am called Ni-Er. Never refer to me by another name, or you will regret it."

 

Yon-Rogg willed his legs to carry his weight as he watched the ramrod straight back of his former team member. He felt elation and fear fight within him. He was so relieved he was about to see Vers. He couldn't begin to strategize until he knew where she was, what her condition was. He felt the uncomfortable heat of the implant beneath his skin, trying to burn away the intensity of his emotions. He breathed slowly to calm his heart. He had to maintain a degree of calm or the chip would begin regulating him. Despite the hopelessness of the situation, despite the gravity of his miscalculation, he was filled with intense desire. He wanted what the SI said to be true. No matter how hard it made the future he wanted what they had mocked him for achieving. A legacy. A lineage. A new beginning that was neither Kree nor Terran; something free from the bonds of both, but strong. He was happy to burn for it.

* * *

 

Sunlight streamed in through the slivers of window in the trailer. Carol was laying on her back with one arm thrown over eyes, the other hand moving in small circles on her lower belly. It was an old trick, covering her eyes and pretending it was someone else comforting her. She could still feel her dream heavy in her limbs, when she moved her legs the friction felt unbearably good, small tingles moving up and down her thighs. Why did he have to make her feel this way? Why couldn't things just be simple?

 

The problem was not that she wanted him. It was that she liked him. She liked the way he called her out on her attitude. She liked the way he made decisions. She wanted to know more about him. How he had ended up where he was, how he could have stopped flying when there was nothing to hold him back.

 

She rolled onto her side, feeling the rolling fuzzy feeling of the beer moving through her as she turned. It felt like a wave inside her, the floating numbness, wherever it crashed into her cells she felt light and calm.

 

"I am worried about what I am seeing, kid." Carol groaned at the familiar voice. Not now.

 

"Then stop coming around," she said her eyes determinedly closed.

 

"You know I don't control that." Carol forced herself to sit up and look at Joe Danvers as he leaned against the TV stand.

 

"You are just my brain. You're not real and I don't want to talk to you," Carol hugged her knees and stared at her father. He stared back at her, every once and awhile his eyes would drift to the collection of bottles by the bed. It could rival his own, the difference was Carol still had the decency to clear them away in the morning.

 

"If I am just your brain, then some part of you doesn't want to make the same mistakes I made." Carol scoffed.

 

"I don't think I am in danger of falling in love with someone who is going to up and leave me with a seven-year-old."

 

"You weren't the mistake, Carol. Neither was your mom. I don't regret either of you." Her dad was giving her a soft loving look. Her eyes reflected in his. She wanted to throw a bottle at him.

 

"See you saying that here, now, doesn't mean anything because you are dead and you never bothered to say it when you were alive. So-" she held up both middle fingers resting them on her knees as Joe Danvers continued to piously look at her.

 

Carol tried to lie back down, but she could feel the shadow of her father watching her. Maybe if he had cared this much when he was alive she wouldn't be hung up on a married ex flyboy with clever hands. She sat up again, her father was looking at her. She decided to get up. Maybe this was a dream and she just needed to wake herself up. She dug around in the sea of bedding, clothes and beer bottles that surrounded her bed. Her hands closed around the hard plastic handle of a Monica's nerf gun. She steadfastly ignored Joe as she searched for the spongey darts. She was sure she had collected them all up. As she found them she jammed them into the small rotating chamber. Yon had told her to practice her aim, they needed to re-teach her eyes how to work together. She could have chosen anything but she took a strange comfort in the smooth curves of the little toy. It fit in her palm in a soothing way. Something forgotten, but important. She lay back down. Feeling her father hovering at the end of her bed. She sat up again immediately.

 

"Okay, say the thing."

 

"What thing, Chickadee?"

 

"The life-affirming mysterious thing my brain wants me to hear."

 

"You're always so angry. You don't have to be so hard. You can let people in you-"

 

Carol cried out in annoyance. He may be dead but she hated him more than she ever had before. She whipped her hand up and fired a foam dart at him. It went wide, but he disappeared as it passed him. Groaning Carol fell back into her mattress.

 

She straightened her arm above her body, aiming for one of the rivets in the roof. She tried to make her eyes focus. Her first dart moved through gun after a satisfying clunk. It went wide, sticking briefly to the left of the rivet before falling back to the bed. She fired again, missed again. She felt her frustration at herself rise. She heard a voice in her ear, felt the pressure of hands on her shoulders, telling her to breathe and relax. Yon's voice, but from a time and place, neither of them ever was. Carol pulled the trigger.

 

* * *

  
Ni-Er, as she wanted to be called, led him down the dark metal halls of the medical bay. He recognized the interior of this class of ship. It was large. It was capable of housing hundreds of soldiers. If it contained even a third of the Kree it could hold they would have been outnumbered fifty to one. It seemed the SI had not underestimated them.

 

In stark contrast to the dark hallways, the medical room Ni-Er unlocked with her palm was blindingly bright. The walls were white and there was a harsh light above. A room normally used as an operating theatre. Yon-Rogg shielded his eyes against the brightness as he walked in. At first, he couldn't see Vers, but their entrance caused the gaggle of medics in white to part, revealing her inside their circle. He walked up to her, heart in his throat that one of them would stop him. The chip beneath his skin buzzed a small warning as his pulse ticked up the closer he got.

 

She was nearly naked, her skin looked pink and raw in the harsh light. Inhibitors lined her body, wired together with thin gold strands. Energy moved like drops of water along the filaments. Yon-Rogg reached out and grasped her arm.

 

"She's like ice," he said to no one in particular. He heard a scoff behind him.

 

"You buried her in the snow on the coldest planet in this system, Commander," Ni-Er's voice dripped with frost and contempt.

 

"My wife is cold. Does the SI consider this caring for her?" He shot daggers at his former teammate. Her spine stiffened.

 

"You will refer to the Supremor with respect in my presence, do not make me tell you again."

 

"The Supremor," Yon-Rogg spit out at her, "has made me a promise. I expect it to be kept."

 

They locked eyes across the room, two storming spots of darkness in the blinding white expanse. Yon-Rogg grit his teeth against the discomfort beneath his skin. He knew the pain would get worse if he did not regulate his emotions, learn to mask himself from the SI.

 

"Increase the temperature in here," Ni-Er finally snapped, shooting daggers at the scurrying medics who seemed to pulse and move as one timid wave. She turned the look on Yon-Rogg, "test your bonds here, your leash will tighten on Hala. I hope you choke on it."

 

Yon-Rogg ignored her, his eyes already back on Vers. Carol, he corrected, he could not forget what she had fought for. He could not forget what they were fighting for now.

 

* * *

 

 

Carol shifted her bag awkwardly as she waited for Yon. She could hear the plastic click-clacking inside. She didn't know how she was going to explain what it was she wanted him to do. What answers she was chasing.

 

The door opened and he entered. Carol felt the same tingle of awareness whenever she was around him. The desire that bristled beneath her skin begged for his attention. She had been dreaming of him since their last appointment. She did not remember the dreams once morning came, but they left a warmth in her limbs that she had been missing. She had been cold for so long. Her days felt like they were spent waiting to return to sleep so that she could meet him again. She liked the dreams. What she didn't like where the half-remembered echoes that would descend on her in moments when her guard was down. Strange quasi-memories that made no sense.

 

They stuck under her skin like granules of sand, they made her feel raw and itchy. She wanted to be free of the shades and shadows that haunted her. That was why she justified asking him to do this one thing for her.

 

He never greeted her when he first saw her, there was a ritual between them. He would come in, dressed in his scrubs, and go to his desk. He would put on his glasses and open her file. Long stretches where Carol could be nothing but silent, awkward and desperately aware of him. They would begin when he greeted her.

 

He looked up to do just that, but something in her eyes or her posture made the words die in his lips.

 

"Why do I feel nervous?" He asked her. Carol lifted her eyebrows, trying to look innocent.

 

"I want you to teach me to shoot," she smiled winningly at him.

 

"That seems like a very bad idea, that has nothing to do with your-" Carol pulled the nerf gun out of her bag. "Ah. Good to know you have been taking my advice to heart."

 

"Of course, couldn't you tell by my stellar improvement?" She asked standing up.

 

"Your improvement has been piecemeal and inconsistent at best," Yon chided her gently. Carol fell into form, her arm outstretched in front of her, Yon's serious face wavered. He instructed her nodding his head to the far wall, "aim at the chart, hit the big E."

 

Carol shifted her body so she was facing away from him, eyes straining to make there be one E at the top of the pyramid. She glanced over her shoulder at him ticking up her eyebrows. He shook his head at her, mouthing the word "shoot". This felt right. Carol aimed and fired. The small neon dart suckered two inches below and almost six inches away from the E, hitting nothing but white void.

 

Yon stepped closer behind her scrutinizing her form.

 

"Do you honestly want me to teach you this? Didn't you learn this in basic?"

 

"I have a head injury remember?" She reset her stance then glanced over her shoulder inviting his critique. He rolled his eyes but moved to her anyway.

 

"For starters, use both your hands," he reached out lining up her wrist so it was in the centre of her field of vision. Carol swallowed as she brought her other hand up to the grip. He reached so she was circled in his arms his hand heavy on her elbow, "bend this elbow. Don't lock up."

 

His voice was in her ear, his breath moving over her skin. Carol tried to force herself to focus on the small orange gun in her grip. His one hand stayed gripped over hers, while the other moved to her shoulder. He moved his hand over the tense muscle. It felt achingly familiar. From her shoulder his hand dropped to her hip, lining up her stance, reminding her she could feel the warmth of his body wrapping around her.

 

"Line up the target, and breathe in," his hand tilted her grip slightly, Carol tried to make the two Es become one. She breathed in with him, holding the air in her lungs. "Now exhale as you squeeze the trigger."

 

Carol breathed out slowly feeling him all around her, her skin felt like little arcs of lightning were shattering beneath its surface. She fired. The small dart made an arc through the air sticking to the N. She could feel Yon shrug.

 

"Better," he said stepping away from her.

 

"Good girl," a voice whispered so deep inside Carol it had to be a memory.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the Night Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got the double posts. I am double posting all night long. It's easy when there ain't no plot. OOH Ya.
> 
> Now I am done my odd celebratory jazz solo I want to thank everyone who has been commenting and guessing and giving me the love and attention my authority figures never did. Its already making me more well adjusted.

Maria had a water spot on her ceiling. Carol had been staring at it for the better part of ten minutes. She was trying to decide what it looked like. She was torn between Elvis Presley and an Easter Island head. Maybe it was John F. Kennedy. Her legs were dangling off the end of the bed and her arms were spread wide. She could still hear the jangling of Maria's bangles. She sighed loudly kicking her feet against the wood frame of the bed.

 

"You sound like Monica," Maria chastised from her dresser. She was struggling, trying to force her earring through her earlobe.

 

"You look fine," Carol sighed again. She sat up looking at her best friend standing in front of the mirror. "Let's just go."

 

"I did not drop my daughter off with my parents so I could look 'fine'" Maria inspected herself in the mirror one more time. "I swear to the Almighty that I am not spending tonight alone. And you, Carol Danvers, better assist me in my goals or I will have your rusty ass trailer towed. Do you hear me?"

 

Carol lifted her legs so she could see her torn jeans and dirty sneakers. She didn't think Maria would have any trouble attracting a partner if she was standing next to Carol all night. Maria dropped a handful of condoms in her purse and clipped it shut with a satisfying snap.

 

"Really, do think you are gonna need that many?" Carol asked arching her eyebrows at her friend. She heard crinkling and a small foil packet landed in the centre of her chest.

 

"Say goodbye to Michael Bolton and let's get out of here."

 

Carol laughed and considered throwing the packet on Maria's bed. Picturing Monica the Snoop she thought better of it and tucked it in her back pocket.

 

"Protect us, Almighty Michael Bolton" she clasped her hands in front of her chest in mock piety and glanced up at the water stain one last time.

* * *

  
Yon-Rogg couldn't sleep. He felt as if someone had scraped out his innards and walked them down the hall. Knowing she was close wasn't helping him. It made it worse knowing a feet hundred feet and a layer of metal were all that separated them. He had been locked in this room. Ni-Er was to be his keeper on Hala. Her duties had begun as soon as they brought him on board. He still did not know what horrors the SI had in store for him. He could not refuse. Even if he had not been regulated by the sliver of metal beneath his skin the fact the SI had Carol was enough to control him. Only until she was strong again he promised himself. After spending most of his life in service to Empire he did not know why he balked at being in their control again. He had never done anything he had thought was wrong before, but then Carol had changed how he weighed his own actions.

 

Even those things he had viewed as harmless at the time, the things he did he didn't understand were wrong until it was too late to turn back. Things he did for her.

 

When they first arrived back from C53 she had been officially assigned to him. He would be her handler and the main crafter of the deceits against her. He had not been surprised by the assignment. She had taken his blood, she had thrived beneath him as he watched her body become one with his cells. During that time he could not be dragged away. He had been helplessly in her thrall. The SI had miscalculated when they had allowed him to open his vein for her. They viewed the Kree ritual of blood bonding as vestigial culture, so diluted it could be ignored. Even Yon-Rogg had not been prepared.

 

He would lay awake at night as he did now, consumed with thoughts of her. Not just her body or her mouth or her eyes; the thousand tangible things that called to him to be touched, tasted and admired. Her spirit called to him. Her desire to be better, to achieve more, to push further. Her body was weakened by its life on C53 and the explosion that had nearly killed her, but her mind was resilient and expansive. It contained beautiful rage and fire, but also unending wells of empathy. She was, without being Kree, the pinnacle of what he desired. And she was his to shape.

 

He had done dishonourable things during that time. He would open his comm and listen to her, he had invaded every aspect of her life, even her privacy. There had been times when he had heard her nightmares. He had heard the whisper of sheets and the panting of breath. He would turn on an infrared scan of her room to be sure she was alone. It was just heat and sound he had told himself. There were times too when it wasn't nightmares that kept her awake. When the panting would turn to moans and he would watch her singular heat signature glow and burst. Watch the reds, yellows and orange wash and bleed into each other until they cooled and mellowed. Knowing what she was feeling, hearing the rawness of her voice he would bring himself to the same brinks. He became so in tune with the small sounds she made that he could eventually time them together, fool himself into thinking that they had shared something.

 

He would never forget the night he had foolishly confessed his trespasses to her. He had spent so much of those first months unburdening himself to her. Confessing everything. Being forgiven eventually, usually after names had been called and punches thrown. He had never taken her so hard as when she admitted she had been thinking of him as he watched her. They had fought. She had called him a pervert, but as he flipped her beneath him she conceded he had been in her dreams since Hala. It was as if a new dam had broken between them. He had not carried her to their bed or even rolled them so the hard floor could dig into his back instead of hers. He had kept her beneath him, stripping away only what was in the way. When he had collapsed on top of her, sweat rolling down his body, pinning her beneath him he had told her she possessed all of him. He was her weapon to wield. He would slaughter one thousand planets for her. She had pushed into the slick skin of his chest, peeling their bodies apart, she had kissed him softly. As gentle to him as he had been hard and unforgiving into her.

 

"Why not save one thousand worlds _with_ me before you slaughter anyone for me?"

 

He had tried to do the former for her, but he had failed. That left only one option.

* * *

 

The bar was packed and Carol was finding it hard to concentrate. Maria was dancing, her silver bangles glinting in the red lights. Carol had been with her for a while, if she closed her eyes it was less disorienting, the vodka she had been drinking mixed with the melting ice water in her glass. She had wanted to be drunk. Anything to dull the throbbing pain from the lights and the dizziness from the music. She didn't want to tell Maria how hard it was to be there. She didn't want her to know she regretted coming to the bar the second the cab had let them out outside. The music was throbbing through the brick walls of the roadhouse. There were people filling up the grimy windows. Maria had looked at Carol with such joy that she had instinctively smiled back. Before the crash, this would have been the highlight of her week. She would have begged Maria to get a sitter and come let loose. Now she felt the dread hovering over her as she felt anything, far away like her heart was a bug in a jar.

 

When the good looking guy had tried to slide between Maria and Carol she had glanced at her friend. Maria had given her the nod and Carol felt justified escaping back to the bar. She was watching them now, in small bursts for as long as her eyes could stand. She loved watching Maria flirt. It was like watching a magician do a trick. Maria was herself, but not herself. She misdirected, she feigned, she smiled. She had anyone she turned her eye to like putty in her hands. Carol couldn't be like that. She was more brash, confrontational. If Maria was the magician, Carol was the wrestler. All bravado and challenge.

 

She felt a frisson of awareness one second before she saw him. She had had her eyes closed against the flashing lights when she felt herself shiver. She opened her eyes and all she could see were yellow eyes watching her. At first, she felt the tingle of excitement roll up her spine from where her thighs met the bar stool all the way to the base of her neck. As fast as the heat traveled up it was dowsed with cold panic. Did that mean his wife was here? Was she about to see them together? She couldn't stomach the thought. She tried to suck back a cold mouthful of water forgetting for a moment the sweating glass in her hand was mostly vodka. Her throat protested against the burning, her body shivering. Maybe she would actually be sick.

 

She started to move quickly, glass in hand, to the back bathrooms. Her feet were unsteady. She hadn't felt the booze when she had been dancing, but now she had been sitting a while it started to flood her hard. That and the way she could feel Yon's eyes on her. The headache was starting. She made to to the yellow-lit bathroom. There were grates over the windows and the floor length stalls were framed in forest green painted wood. She counted the red terracotta tiles as she stumbled to a stall. One, two, three, four, five, six. Carol let the door bang behind her, her glass curled cold into her chest. She tried to breathe against the tears and the vodka that was welling up in her system. She wanted her life back. She was sick of being broken. She was tired of feeling like everything that touched her was through a thin pane of glass, except the one person she couldn't have.

 

She sat down on the toilet lid and jammed her feet against the stall door. She would just stay in here for a bit then tell Maria she was going to go. Or see if Maria wanted to go home with her. She doubted it. Maria was giving the guy she'd met on the floor bedroom eyes and Carol couldn't blame her. She knew what it was like to want someone's touch. To be lonely in a way you never used to be lonely before. Carol wanted her friend to take somebody home. She just wished the person who had been haunting her dreams, making her realize how lonely she was, wasn't also lurking outside.

 

Carol couldn't stay in the stall all night. She wasn't drunk enough to fall asleep here. She counted to ten, she would stare at the laces of her shoes for ten more seconds and then she would go.

 

The door to the bathroom banged. Carol jumped, stopping at eight. She held her breath. She didn't hear voices or footsteps. Carol opened the stall slowly, peaking around the corner. No one seemed to be there. She walked to the old yellowed bank of porcelain sinks and set her drink down on the rail. She ran cold water, washing her hands and splashing her face. When she looked up in the mirror Lawson was standing behind her.

 

"You have to be kidding me," Carol rolled her eyes and turned to face her old mentor. "Really? In public? Are there no rules anymore?"

 

"I was never one for rules, you know that Ace" Lawson smiled up at her.

 

"If you are haunting me because you want me to feed Goose while you're gone I already asked Maria and she now thinks I am crazy. So thanks for that," Carol turned back to the sink and splashed more water on her face.

 

"Goose will be fine. She can take care of herself," Lawson tucked her hands in her jacket and looked Carol up and down. "It's you I am worried about."

 

"I am getting really sick of this ghosts of Christmas' Past bullshit. If you want to help me, come back. Prove I am not crazy, prove I took that bird up for a reason," Carol was shaking she was so mad. She stared at Lawson in the mirror.

 

Lawson opened her mouth and the door to the washroom banged open. Maria walked in, Carol looked over her shoulder quickly but Lawson was gone.

 

"Who were you talking to?" Maria looked around the bathroom, her eyebrow cocked.

 

"Just myself," Carol shrugged. Maria gave an exasperated look around the room but didn't push.

 

"Listen I am going to share a cab with -" Maria pulled out a small rectangle, she squinted at it. "Roger Dover of 45 West Sanderling Rise."

 

"Did you steal his ID?" Carol asked, reaching for the piece.

 

"I will give it back, now be a friend and memorize everything on there in case I get murdered."

 

"Just don't go home with him," Carol laughed handing the card back to her friend.

 

"I am not about to deprive myself just because anyone could be a serial killer these days. Besides," she grabbed Carol in a slightly wobbly hug placing a wet kiss on her cheek. "I have my very own Oscar the Grouch who can come running if she hears screaming. The bad kind of screaming."

 

"How do you tell good screaming from bad screaming?" Carol scrunched her forehead.

 

"Oh Oscar, we have to get you out of that can," Maria gripped her shoulders tight. "Now tell me you are gonna be okay if I leave here without you."

 

"I'll be fine I promise. Now go." Carol mustered up a smile. Maria did a small happy shimmy and left the bathroom all smiles. Carol collapsed forward with her hand braced on the sink. She stared at her wavering reflection in the mirror.

 

"Listen up, Danvers, we have to get out of here in one piece, okay? Escape is the name of the game."

 

She took a deep breath, grabbed her drink and walked out of the bathroom. She stopped dead in the doorway.

 

Yon was leaning against the wall, watching her.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> collision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> REMEMBER WHEN I THOUGHT THIS WAS GOING TO BE LIKE 8 CHAPTERS??  
> I am a fool. I lie to myself as often as I lie to you lol
> 
> Thank you for all support. Comments and Kudos keep me writing. I love to hear what people are thinking.

Carol tried to swallow her panic as her brain caught up with her body. Her first instinct had been to freeze when she saw him like a rabbit in headlights. As if she could resolve into the air through the sheer power of her heartbeat in her chest. Second instinct had been to allow the novelty of him out of scrubs in the wild to capture her imagination. Her third had been to put a beguilingly absurd look on her face and try to slip past him as if he could mistake her for waitstaff. He isn't here for you, Carol, she chided herself. Yon was cool and professional. It was her own hyper sexual delusions that were making her panic.

 

As she passed within his reach his hand had shot out grabbing her wrist, making the melting contents of her glass rattle. She looked down at his hand in confusion before her eyes swept up over him, catching the deep vee the weight of his glasses pulled into his shirt collar and finally not daring to stray above the muscle that ticked along his jugular.

 

"I will just be taking my arm back," she said awkwardly trying to extract her wrist from his grip, the ice clinked against the glass. His other hand came up and worked the glass away from her. She was still in such a state of shock she let him take it.

 

He released her arm and brought the glass to his lips. He breathed in, smelling the faded sting of the vodka in the water. He tilted the liquid so it just barely touched the rim of the glass. He wet his lips with it, running his tongue along their seam. Carol's eyes were stuck on his mouth. She felt the way his eyes bore into her. They willed her to look up at him, she wouldn't, instead, she focused all her energy on trying to swallow her heart again. He took a step closer to her, pointing at the sweating glass, holding it up to her so she had to look at it.

 

"Is this part of your recovery plan, Danvers?" He shouted above the music. Carol's eyes locked on the glass. He meant the vodka. She realized as she had been melting into a puddle in her sneakers, he had been judging her. She felt her anger spike. She tried to walk away, pushing past him, but he grabbed her forearm. He pulled her close. He clearly wanted her to answer.

 

"The most effective part," she growled stepping close to him. What had he done for her? Throw a ball? Shine a light in her eyes? Touch her until she felt whole and then leave her to fall apart when he was gone? She wasn't being fair but neither was he. He couldn't drop out of the sky and expect to control her whole life. She shook him off and began to stalk back into the crowd. She knew he was following her and she was filled with rage over it. It was bad enough she was haunted by figments of her imagination she didn't need Yon to look at her as if she had betrayed him. He didn't know, he couldn't know what it was like to feel the way she did, to sweat in the metal mausoleum her father had died in and wonder if she was dead too.

 

She would have skirted the dance floor except as she felt Yon closing in behind her she wanted the coverage. She plunged forward trying to snake through the crowd as she held one hand up in front of her. She never knew as she tried to cut her path if she was going make contact with solid flesh or air as her damaged eyes multiplied the heaving bodies on the dancefloor. The bar was dark and the lights were red as the band hammered out their endless song. She was sweating. The heat from one hundred bodies was trapped in the air. In front of her like a filmstrip playing over reality, she saw a dark swampland superimposed over the crowd. As it was now, walking was hard. She could feel mud sucking over her boots. No cold, no damp only the feeling of pressure swallowing her legs. Carol stopped swaying, watching the two timelines play in front of her. She heard the voice, far away from her. Telling her to stop going so fast, to move carefully.

 

"Stop Vers," the phantom grip on her waist. So rigid. So strong. She was frozen in this moment. She felt it again the single hand bracing the soft bend of her waist. This time it was harder, more corporeal.

 

"Stop Danvers," Yon had caught up to her on the dancefloor. She felt the wave of sensation travel up the raw nerves in her skin. One reality disappeared and only this one remained. His hand let go of her as soon as they touched her. She had been leaning she realized. He could not see what she could, she didn't feel the alien world rising up to swallow her legs anymore. He only saw his patient stranded in the centre of a dancefloor, disoriented and swaying. She turned around to face him, the bodies they had cut through were closing in around them again, pushing them closer together. He looked concerned and patient. And perfect. She hated him for it. She hated the way his judgment made her insides burn.

 

"I am sorry," he leaned into her so she could hear him, his hands coming up to hover over her arms. Forming a barrier between her and the crowd. He smelled of laundry, sandalwood, and sweat. Something else too clung to his skin and hair; it was cool air and petrichor. She wondered if it was raining outside. She wondered why he was apologizing.

 

"Its none of your business," she quasi-shouted back at him, not resisting as the crowd knocked her closer and closer to him. Their bodies moving together and swaying apart with the pressure of the crowd. He was looking at her, but every once in awhile his eyes would break away to scan the room.

 

"It's hard for me," he answered his eyes returning to her. He was looking at her with so much conviction she wanted to scream. As the crowd moved closer he stepped in again, his arms hovering more rigid around her so nothing could touch her. She didn't know what to do. She kept glancing at the protective way he sheltered her, it felt so familiar to be treated so preciously. And yet she couldn't imagine anyone else doing this for her. She would never let them. She didn't know why she was letting him.

 

"I don't know why Yon. You are the one with the body that works and the career and the family. Why is this hard for you?" She pushed his arms away so she no longer had a barrier between her and the crowd. Their bodies were tight together. Carol needed to leave. She turned and continued cutting through the crowd leaving him behind.

 

As she fell from the sweaty tangle into the marginally cooler in front of the bar she saw the shimmer of rain through the grimy windows. The door opened and a cold breeze blew across her sweating skin. "Good now keep going," the voice that sounded like Yon, that lived deep inside her head growled at her. Head throbbing, eyes aching she charged towards the door to the rain outside.

 

* * *

 

Yon-Rogg took the stun to his chest. He knew it was better to give in to the pain, collapse around it and let it reshape you rather than fight against it. When your muscles tightened and tensed the body and the mind were able to find new pain in resistance. So he fell to his knees and gave in to the sensations. It was over quickly. They were sparring with training weapons. They hurt because that's how you learned but they didn't kill.

 

"Are you going easy on me Commander or have the stories about you been exaggerated?" Ni-Er mocked him, tucking her blaster back into its holster. He knew better than to tell her they were their stories. She insisted he did not know her and he would not push the issue when she was armed.

 

He would gain her as an ally. The SI had miscalculated if they thought assigning his former second in command would make him weak. Make him long for the time before. His body was made for different things now. The weapon carved by the Kree Empire had become a temple. It was made for worship. His strength was only to protect her, his conviction only to further her message across the universe. His heart now was split. His blood poured between two vessels. His forever and his future. He would guard them. He would sacrifice himself to the fire of eternal war if it meant he could give them a chance of survival.

 

"You are testing me, Keeper. I see no reason to show you my hand. Not when a fraction of my skill is enough to keep you at a distance. _Zolun getta jigig khurtag_ ," he taunted her in ancient Kree.

 

The words that formed the deepest rhetoric were all from a time long before the SI, before the refinement of their culture. Soft Belly Small Knife. He was calling her weak. Insulting her on a level so deeply ingrained in their training that he watched her anger roll through her. Her body tensed, she moved like a whip. Lethal. Crackling. Except he knew her. He had trained beside her. He could predict her even at the height of her rage. He was the one who had changed. He was no longer the same man. He had forged himself in pure Starfire for four years.

 

He moved around her, took her down. Pinned her beneath him on the mat so she could not reach her blaster. She had left him unarmed. This session had no goal it seemed except to allow her to attack him. She struggled beneath him, sweat rising off her blue skin smelling of salt and metal.

 

"Is this how you take your Terran?" Ni-Er spit the words up at him. The chip sent a warning buzz as he felt his rage climb. The idea that he was seducing her, or that he would desire anyone but his bondmate sickened him. She was taunting him. He wondered if she thought the purity of her breeding made her desirable to him. He would not give in to the rage, would not release her. He pushed her harder into the floor beneath them.

 

"Does this exercise have a purpose or do you have nothing better to occupy your time?" He snarled at her. She fixed him with a venomous stare.

" _Too toog khuvaadag_ " she purred back up at him, her words dripping with disgust. Number, Number Weigh Division. A man found wanting loses his kingdom. He felt the insult down to his bones before the agony of the regulator tore through him. He shuddered and rolled to the side as Ni-Er released the control. She pushed him so he was on his back, his vision dappled with pain.

 

"The Supremor gave you the gift of returning your rank, but I was the one they gave the key to your cage. Do not forget that, Commander."

 

She left him muscles tensed, head rolled back on the mat. He wrapped his mind around the oldest Kree he knew, willing the pain to temper him into something even more unbreakable. _Chataakh duratai_. To love to burn.

 

* * *

 

She stood under the awning watching the rain splatter the dirt parking lot. She needed a cab, even though she didn't want to go home yet. She needed a buffer from what had happened inside the bar. She needed space from the disappointment and loneliness. It hovered over and around her like an air poisoning miasma. The rain was washing it away. She could stay here a little longer. Watch the puddles grow and the parking lot become painted with reflections of neon.

 

She heard the door open behind her. She didn't need to turn her head to know who had joined her.

 

"Do you need a ride?" He asked from behind and above her. He was keeping his distance.

 

"No." She kept her eyes locked on the street.

 

"How long are you going to stay here?"

 

"Until the sun comes up. When does your wife want you home?" It was too personal. She could have bitten her tongue. She was still his patient.

 

"She knows where I am," he answered her, his voice was hard. Don't mention her again was what he was really saying. Carol thought it was unfair he could prod into her aching places, but she couldn't return the favour. It's because this is strictly professional she chastised herself.

 

They stood in silence for a little while watching the cars rumble by, shifting as other patrons left the bar laughing and holding hands above their heads as they ran through the rain.

 

"I don't want to stay like this," he said at last. Carol arched her eyebrows at him. She waved her arm to the wide expanse of road. He didn't have to stay for her. He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the parking lot. She dug her feet into the patio blocks staying beneath the awning. Rain was starting to run down his face and soak his clothes.

 

"What are you doing?" She asked, trying not to notice the way his shirt was starting to stick. He nodded his head to the motel across the street. It was set back from the quiet road and there was a glow of an all-night diner.

 

"Let me buy you a coffee."

 

"No," she looked around her as if someone else would step in and tell him he was being crazy.

 

"What if I said it would make me feel better," he smiled at her. Not a smirk, not a grimace, but a full force pleading smile. Carol felt something inside her budge.

 

"Fine," she rolled her eyes and let him pull her into the cold rain.

 

They ran across the darkened street, sloshing through the parking lot. The dark helped. She could force her eyes to watch the glowing light of the dinner. Maybe she was learning to live in spite of herself.

 

The bell above the door jangled and the warmth of the near-empty diner seeped through Carol's soaked clothes. She wondered if Yon had noticed the way she had. He was walking them to a booth, nodding to the waitress.

 

She slid into one side of the booth and he slid into the other. The waitress came by and filled two mugs of coffee. It smelled sour and burnt but Carol poured so much sugar and milk in hers it never mattered. Yon took his black so he would suffer. She paused. She didn't know that. She didn't know anything about him. So why did she feel like she did. She tried to push the thought away as she reached for the sugar.

 

"This is the hard part," she smiled sheepishly as she tried to line the sugar up with the rim. Yon watched her for a moment before reaching across the table. He covered her hands with his, one over the sugar pourer and the other wrapping around the heat of her cup. Her eyes flicked up at him. He looked pointedly down at their hands, watch. He lowered the sugar until it clinked on the rim, then he lifted slowly releasing her so she could pour as much as she wanted.

 

"There is no shame, Danvers, in taking the time to line up your shot. Speed isn't the only virtue."

 

Carol licked her lips, hoping he couldn't see how she moved her knees together beneath the table. He took a sip of his coffee. He scrunched his nose.

 

"You might have the right idea," he reached for the milk. He poured it into his cup then held it up to her. She nodded and he poured it until the black became the soft brown of caramel.

 

"Are we going to pretend to get to know each other?" She asked. He laughed, the short exhale of air.

 

"We don't have to," he sipped at his coffee. She followed suit.

 

Carol woke up stretched out in the booth, her head resting against the glass. The sun was coming through the window. She sat up looking around surprised.

 

"Morning Honey. He said not to wake you, but your cab is here," the waitress was standing expectantly at the end of the table. Carol tried to sit up quickly blinking away the disorientation. She reached for her wallet. "Oh your friend paid."

 

Carol heard the throb of an engine, she turned her head in time to see a black and green motorcycle peel out of the bar's parking lot.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Struggle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting from my phone for the first time in awhile. Please excuse the errors until I can properly edit tonight.

He had never pictured returning to Hala. He had put it far from his mind because to return to Hala meant they had been parted.  
That one of them was gone. Unlike C 53, they would never willingly visit his homeworld. It had been unspoken between them, but echoed loudly when he had first placed his hand in hers. There had been a time in the early days when he had hoped to change her mind. She had seen it and resented him for it. It formed the crux of every one of their sparring matches. Both became more determined to win; to rattle some concession out of the other.

 

He remembered her knocking him to the ground, but rather than letting him stand and reset she had stood over him. Yon-Rogg froze, scared to even breathe as she sunk down on her knees sitting heavy on his chest. He had looked pointedly at the place their bodies met and raised his eyebrows at her. She narrowed her eyes at him, her lips quirking wickedly.

 

"I am sick of punching this out," she said looking down at him, willing him to acknowledge the unspoken argument they had been having.

 

"Who are you and what have you done with Vers?" He asked his hands trying ineffectively to push her knees away from him. He didn't remember how to touch her. He needed to disengage. He couldn't bear the heat of her seeping into his chest. He wanted her too badly.

 

"I am serious, Yon. Why stay? Why follow me if all you want is to go back? Why not leave me and return to Hala?"

 

"I can't go back alone," he grit out trying to slide himself out from between her thighs, trying to recite in his head the one thousand punishments for dishonourable conduct in the Kree warrior doctrine. Maybe bring some sense into his pounding blood.

 

"I know the Supremor will- no I don't know what they will do. I don't know what happens now. I don't know how to be a fugitive, but I won't be a victim ever again. I will die before I go back." Her thighs gripped him tighter, her eyes burned with conviction. Yon-Rogg let himself lie there and look up at her. She didn't understand. He didn't know if he had the words to make her understand.

 

"I am not worried about what the Supremor will do to me. I can't go back alone because I can't be away from you," he knew his eyes were looking at her pleading. She rolled her eyes, taking a swing at his chest. She went wide not trying to hit him. He caught her wrist anyway. Turning it to look at the dark blue veins. He realized now would be the moment to tell her, when they were worn out from sparring, when she was ready to talk. He snuck a glance at her, she was watching him. Her mouth was a hard line, one hundred questions behind her eyes.

 

"I always feel like there is something you aren't telling me," she took her wrist back and held it against her chest as if he'd bruised her. She stood up and Yon-Rogg felt the loss of her. He lay on the ground listening to her gathering her things, his eyes on the ceiling. It was easier when he couldn't see her.

 

"What was your first memory on Hala?" He asked knowing the answer.

 

"Waking up mid transfusion feeling like I was dying" she answered from somewhere above and behind him.

 

"You were. I killed you," he heard her scoff. He heard the woosh then the scuffing of something being thrown at him. He sat up so he could look at her ignoring him.

 

"You did a bad job of it," she said.

 

"I gave you my blood so you would grow stronger, so you would survive." He had told her this story before, but normally this is where it ended. That day it had to continue, "I did it so you would be mine."

 

"I'm not yours," she corrected him grabbing her bag so she could leave the small space they used to train.

 

"But you are," his words were swallowed by the woosh of the door closing.

 

* * *

 

Yon was making her wait. That was the only explanation for how long she had been sitting in the patient room, worrying her fingernail against her eye tooth. She never truly bit her nails, she always clicked them against her tooth, something Maria assured her was just as unattractive as biting them. Carol forced her nervous hands between her knees, shaking her foot instead. She thought they had parted on good terms. The eight minutes passed the hour were making her doubt herself.

 

Finally the handle clicked and Yon walked in. As was his habit he didn't look at her or greet her. He was flipping through her file, chewing his cheek. A habit she had never seen him do. It was hard to imagine he had any nervous ticks.

 

"Stand there," he nodded his head towards the patient bench. He didn't look up from her file. She stood up, taking in his posture.

 

"Good morning to you too," she said under her breath as she passed him. She felt his eyes drift over her. Always watching and assessing. She reached the bench in a few steps and turned to face him.

 

"Close your eyes," he said his eyes back on the paper. He couldn't see the incredulous look Carol shot him.

 

"Excuse me?"

 

"Close. Your. Eyes," he repeated slowly in a laconic tone. Carol raised her eyebrows, but complied. She could hear him put away the file and the click of his glasses on the desk.

 

She peaked beneath her eyelashes so she could see his feet come into view. With her eyes closed she felt her awareness of him blossom. There was nothing to distract from the weight of his eyes on her or the way she could feel his body heat. His hands ghosted over her sides moving within her aura, sending currents of electricity through her spine.

 

"Now I have seen you in the wild I noticed your balance is off," he said in a low dark voice as he examined her.

 

"Oh are we talking about that now?" Carol asked eyes still closed.

 

"We are talking about your balance," Yon corrected carefully, his hands skimming beneath her arms so he could turn her palms outward. Carol resisted the urge to shiver and hoped he didn't notice the way her skin pricked and flushed under his feather-light touches.

 

"Okay, raise your left leg and hold it," Yon instructed. Carol kept her lowered eyes on his shoes as she lifted her leg willing her body to balance. She could feel Yon's eyes on her, feel how tense his body was as if he was ready to catch her of she fell. "Now the right."

 

"Piece of cake," Carol said grinning. She could feel Yon leaning into her. Looking at her carefully. She could see his shoes shift beneath her lashes.

 

"That's because you are cheating," he whispered low in her ear. Carol dropped her leg stumbling slightly at the surprise of his voice so close to her. Her heart fell into her stomach. She caught herself but she felt him move as if he would stop her fall. She blinked her eyes open, trying to make him come into focus.

 

"Am not," she tried to act offended. Yon walked to his desk and pulled open a draw.

 

"Peeking at my shoes is cheating," he answered pulling a long black strip of cloth from the drawer.

 

"Wow Dr. Yon I didn't think you would be the type," Carol teased, her heartbeating faster as he returned to her blindfold in hand.

 

"I am not a doctor," he corrected stepping close to her. He reached for her, wrapping the blindfold over her eyes. The world went dark and all Carol could feel was his hands touching her and all she could hear was the fast beating of a heart. He spoke again his voice a centimeter from her ear, his hands fastening the knot behind her head. He was laughing at her, teasing her, "Sometimes difficult patients force you to get creative."

 

The world blocked away Carol felt like she was falling, they were nowhere. Floating in the darkness Carol's senses on fire and Yon near her warm and vibrant against her nerves. Yon's hands were firmer on her, touching her and readjusting her stance. Carol caught her lip between her teeth feeling desire building deep in her core.

 

"Left leg again," Yon instructed. She tried to lift her leg, but it was like her body and her mind no longer spoke the same language. She faltered, her foot barely leaving the ground before she had to drop it again. She fell forward her hands coming up to protect her fall. Instead she hit a solid wall of muscle her hands spread over his shoulders. His hands came up to brace her arms. He exhaled hard, she could feel the strength of his heartbeat under her hands.

 

"Sorry, sorry," she apologized trying to push herself away from him. Her body protested. He felt so good. The static that seemed to surround her cleared and the world felt solid and real again. His hands tightened on her, she couldn't push away. She couldn't see him. She moved her head trying to peak beneath the blindfold, wetting her lips. Her heart was thundering against her ribs. His grip loosened and he brought a hand to her cheek. He was so gentle.

 

"Tell me to stop," he begged her as his thumb traced her dampened lip. Carol had no words. She wasn't there with him anymore.

* * *

 

They had been arguing. They always bickered, but this time it was a full blown argument. Carol could still feel the anger built up inside her. Where they went, how they hid themselves, no plan was safe enough to satisfy him. Yon was being so over cautious she felt like she was in a cage. They couldn't settle on a planet, no star system was ever far enough. Stop helping, stop drawing attention, stop putting yourself at risk.

 

At least on Hala, she yelled at him across the star map projection, they had a mission. Were they only on the run now? Let the SI take her then. He had looked at her with dark thundering clouds behind his eyes.

 

Stop talking like that. He couldn't listen to it anymore. She didn't know what she was up against.

 

"That's because you never open your mouth, Yon" she had countered. Everything always had to have a shiny layer of deceit over it. Nothing was ever straightforward.

 

"And say what Vers? You think you are so strong. Nothing touches you. I can't just lay the last thousand years of our history out so that you understand what game you are playing," Yon was stalking closer to her. He had a look in his eye like he was close to breaking. Good Carol wanted him to shatter.

 

"You're the one playing games, Yon" she felt the hard lip of console hit her thighs. She had been backing away from him she realized. No wonder he had that predator gleam in his eyes. He was so close to her now, worry and the need to control poured off him.

 

"Tell me to stop," he begged her gripping her shoulders. Carol was mesmerized by his eyes. She shook her head. She didn't know what she meant as her blood rushed through her ears and her world narrowed to where their thighs were pressed against each other. He felt better than she imagined, better than her dreams, better than when they sparred. She closed her eyes. She felt his hands run over her shoulders, encircling her neck. He tilted her head back. She could feel his eyes searching her face, she could no longer distinguish their heartbeats from one another. Carol counted to five if he didn't kiss her by five she would blast him across the room. One, two, she curled her fist against his sternum, three.

 

He pressed his mouth to her, catching the side of her mouth, sagging against her.

 

"Please stop me," he begged again. Carol turned her head and caught his mouth. He tightened his grip, pulling her more fully against him. Finally devouring her.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caught

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am calling this a double post day because I haven't slept yet. Lol though maybe I should.... 
> 
> I hope you like this one ;-) ;-) 
> 
> I have anxiety.
> 
> Please comment if you are enjoying the story, or leave a kudos. I check obsessively because I have deep-seated personality issues and a minor praise kink  
> love love love DH

It was too much, Carol thought. She couldn't breathe properly, her lungs too overwhelmed to pull in the air. It was like her insides had gone into shock. His mouth was so insistent against hers, the bench pushed into her hips, pressing them together. She couldn't see, there was nothing but the heaviness of his body against her and the persuasive warmth of his mouth. It felt so right, like a moment out of time. Somewhere she had been before and was returning to again. Except it was wrong. He felt like hers, but he wasn't. Her hand moved to cover his, beneath her fingers she felt the cold ridge of his wedding band. She moved her hand back to his chest as if he burned her. She felt cold and her body couldn't be denied any longer, she pushed him away. He let her go, he was panting, she could feel the heaving of his chest beneath her fists. She sucked in air, pulling the blindfold from her eyes. She couldn't breathe. She was panicking. She pushed him harder and he stumbled back. His eyes were wide, his mouth was moving wordlessly. She had to get away from him. She pushed past him to make it to the door. He let her go. She heard the dull impact of his fist hitting the padded bench.

* * *

 

They were hours out from Hala. Yon-Rogg had been lying on his back watching the shadows play across the ceiling. He was waiting. He was waiting for her to come for him. He would be seeing his wife, possibly for the last time. Ni-Er would take him to her. Yon-Rogg breathed through his nose. His body was beginning to dull to the low tingle of the regulator beneath his skin. He had to learn to live with it, to thrive in his new condition. To feel every emotion so deeply the SI couldn't find it.

 

Finally, Ni-Er came, she was dressed in her training gear. He sat up as she opened the door rolling his shoulders. She waited for him as he walked into the dim hallway, compared to the darkness of his chamber the light hurt his eyes. He squinted against it. Ni-Er scoffed at him. He knew he should be befriending her, building allies, but he couldn't stomach it with his wife so close. He snarled at her instead. He began to walk towards the place he knew Carol was, but Ni-Er coughed. She was still standing in the hallway, he glanced back at her. She nodded her head towards the training wing.

 

"Have you forgotten, Commander? You are at my disposal." She started to walk towards the training rooms.

 

"I am to be taken to my wife," Yon-Rogg growled. He didn't care the chip sparked. Ni-Er laughed pacing closer to him.

 

"You have to earn it," she said coyly before moving down the hallway.

 

If it was a fight she wanted, he could give her a fight.

 

* * *

 

Carol was going to be sick, she was certain of it. She had left Yon's office in a whirlwind of curses and flustered glances. What the hell had she been thinking? She needed to get back in the sky. That was all she needed.

 

Her first instinct had been to run down the street but she couldn't make it more than a block before she began to lean and was in serious danger of scraping along one of the buildings. She stopped and began to look up and down the street for a cab. Of course, the street was deserted. That was the way of it. Just as she was about to give up and begin running again a pair of headlights turned down the street and she saw the telltale silhouette of a taxi. She flagged it down and threw herself into the backseat. She felt the comforting spring of upholstery. She closed her eyes, saying Maria's address as if it was an incantation. A spell back to safety and if not sanity at least not complete and utter delusion. She lay her head back and felt the pressure of the blindfold on her throat. It was foreign and constricting. A reminder of what had just happened. She kept her eyes closed letting the colours of the sun flash over her eyelids.

 

The pressure on her throat. Someone behind her, holding her by the tight column of her neck. The punishing movement of another body inside her, but she loved it. She always loved it when he was like this with her. They were somewhere they shouldn't be. She had to stay quiet. Stay muzzled against what was building inside her. He must have felt it, felt her breaking because his hand left her throat and he wedged the thick ridge of his thumb between her lips, letting her bite down on the thick pad of his palm to silence the sounds threatening to break loose from her throat. She bit into him hard and he grunted behind and above her. He could feel her shaking muscles and she tasted the warm salt of blood on her tongue. Tasting him like that made her tense harder before releasing into the soft muscled bliss that followed. It would be him now, spilling into her, his hand still loosely pressed against her pliant mouth. She licked where her teeth marked him as he pressed his last desperate thrusts into her. He pulled his hand away and all she saw was blue smeared down to his wrist.

 

Carol sat up gasping. Her head throbbed and she bent forward against the jarring motion of the taxi. What had she been doing? Where had she gone? Why did everything hurt like an unbearably bright light had been shone into her eyes? Her hand found her own throat as she desperately untied the blindfold. She threw it into the depths of the cab hoping she never saw it again. She glanced up to see if her driver had noticed any of her strange behaviour. Familiar eyes were watching her.

 

"No you are not here," she said loudly. Too loud. Dr. Lawson smiled at her.

 

"Excuse me, miss?" The brown-eyed cabbie looked at her cautiously.

 

"Sorry, sorry," she said resting her head back again closing her eyes against the clawing shame. Just get home, Carol told herself, just get home.

 

* * *

 

Ni-Er went flying across the mat. She had made the mistake of giving him a weapon this time. They each had training quarterstaffs. Although not his weapon of choice it left him better matched than bare hands against a blaster. He watched her stand, struggle against the body's reaction to getting hit in the sternum.

 

"Why continue to do this? I don't think the Supremor doubts my skills."

 

"I doubt them," she hissed at him resetting her stance shaking herself off.

 

"We will be on Hala soon. I will not have my last hours with my wife wasted retreading old ground."

 

Ni-Er swung in a fresh attack. He didn't understand her anger. He didn't understand her resentment. She bristled whenever they were together. He ducked under her upswing, bringing his staff up to brutalize her side. He hit her hard first in the ribs, then dragged it down her body to take out her knees. She tried to swipe her staff downwards but he was already turning out of her reach, bringing his staff up in a parry he disarmed her. She cried out in fury as he knocked her off her feet. He pressed the butt of the staff into her chest. Ni-Er panted on the ground. They had been friends once.

 

"I mourned you," he growled pushing the staff harder into her chest. "Vers mourned you. And this is how you repay us."

 

Ni-Er tried to knock the staff away.

 

"You didn't mourn me, Commander. I never knew the Terran."

 

"Fine. Continue the lie you are a stranger, why go against the promise of the Supremor and keep us parted? We agreed as long as we traveled on the same ship I would be allowed access to her. If all you are is a servant to your master who are you to break their promise?"

 

"It is like watching a man mated to a beast. It disgusts me to see even a Kree of lowly birth lower himself further by bonding himself to such a pathetic creature. You break our most basic laws with your intermarriage, you have wasted seed in a tainted furrow-"

 

Yon-Rogg pressed his staff into her throat. The regulator was making his muscles quake. He had to centre himself. He had to transcend his rage at her words.

 

"My wife has the spirit of the warrior, she has applied her skill on more planets than you have set foot on. Her name is repeated with more reverence than prayer across the galaxy. She has absolved me of the sins of our Empire"

 

"If it were not for the medicine of the Kree your woman and spawn would have burnt to ash on Ledas," Ni-Er snarled at him.

 

"Enough. I have bested you. Take me to them," Yon-Rogg grit his teeth and forced himself to take the staff from Ni-Er's throat.

 

* * *

 

Carol had skipped her appointment. She had spent the day sweating into her mattress. Now night had fallen. The air in the trailer was oppressive, it pressed down on her lungs like a boot on her chest. Joe had died on a night like this her mind whispered to her. She tried to shut her eyes, but there was no escaping the voice that was inside her. As the flickering light of the tv cast shadows of the beer bottles up the curved walls of the trailer, Carol let the memory pull her under.

 

He had been dehydrated. Too much liquor. Dizzy from no food. His liver liquefying into his other organs, the heat in the trailer had caused his dehydration to accelerate. He had died hallucinating her mother had come back, while his organs slowly shut down. She knew this because the paramedic who had helped wheel him out had told her he had wanted to see his wife. Carol had only nodded not having the words to say that Joe Danvers hadn't seen his wife in over a decade. Hell, the only reason Carol had known to call the cops was because her half brother had called her collect from jail to complain Dad's cheque hadn't arrived. This was news to Carol that Joe had been sending Steven money. She had stood on the humid lawn of the trailer park and watched the blue and red lights paint the side of the trailer. She had looked away when they had wheeled Joe's body out. There were a few things in life that weren't solved with bravery, this was a problem she couldn't stare down.

 

The memory chafed against her sweating skin. Finally, she couldn't take it any longer. She sat up and walked to the kitchen. She grabbed the bin and began collecting the small knot of bottles that had grown next to her bed. Next, she turned on the tap in the kitchen and ducked her head to wash out her mouth. The water was cold and tasted slightly of tin. She spat it out thinking it tasted like blood. The water ran down her chin and she wiped it away with her sweat-drenched tank. It was early enough she could shower in Maria's bathroom. She eyed her mattress as she gathered a change of clothes. There was no point in showering then coming back here.

 

She put her bundle of clothes on the kitchen table and walked back to her mattress. She dug her hands into it and began pulling it upright. It wobbled and warped as she pulled it across the trailer. She reached the door and pushed it open with her back, heaving the heavy mattress towards her. The wood stuck and creaked as forced her body and the mattress through the door. It was hot out, but there was a breeze cooling the air.

 

She was sweating hard as she walked, pulled and coaxed the mattress out of the door. Pausing at points to lean her head against it panting. Finally, she triumphantly threw the mattress down onto the porch. It filled its entire width, coming just short of the door.

 

Now she could shower.

 

* * *

 

The first time he had seen her had been across the wreckage, he had tried to reason with her, she had been made of fire and bravado. He had admired the Terran, in the same way one might admire an orloni that bites the hand that caged it. He had no understanding then of how deep the fire went, how resilient she was. As he stood over her now, she looked serene in the glowing white of the med bay. She still had the photon inhibitors lining her body, a small glowing spider web running down her sides. She looked less raw. He ran his hand over her temple, she was warm again, he leaned on close as he could brushing the hair from her face. He silently begged her to open her eyes. He just wanted to see them one last time, to hear her laugh. Her stillness hollowed him out more than distance ever could. He missed her.

 

They were alone. Ni-Er had cleared the room of medics and then left them. He was never more grateful for her disgust. He had never dared to touch Vers when they were here, terrified something delicate would be undone and everything would come crashing down. He didn't have the luxury of such caution now. He brushed his knuckles over her cheek and ran his hands down her arm taking her hand in his. He bent down so he could place a kiss on her palm, at her elbow, feather them across her cheek.

 

He kept his eyes on her face and reached blindly down her body, his hand tracing the hard bone of her sternum, and then the softness of her stomach. He paused over her navel. He let his hand feel the soft rise and fall of her breathing. Each weak breath in, he felt a foreign firmness, a resistance to his touch. He tried to keep himself calm, to push the love he felt so deep he could savour it slowly for the rest of his life. This is what he had wanted. This is what had scared her. The beginning of something new. Something so precious it made everything in him ache. He had not wanted it like this.

 

"Do you remember when you gave me your blood what I promised you?" He spoke lowly to her, hoping some deep part of her could hear him. "I lied, Vers. Just know I wouldn't have chosen this. When you wake up please remember I would never have chosen this."

 

_He was only just coming to terms with the fact he had been shot. The pain was blossoming and blistering through him in ways he had never imagined. He had been hit, stabbed and even crushed. Never shot. He wouldn't have picked getting shot again. It was by far the worst. He was on his side in the makeshift medical tent. The skirmish had ended. The bad guys pushed back and to his mild shock, he was still on this side of the good guys' line. He thought to roll over and change the pressure on his wound. He was in the process when Vers burst in._

_"Yon, are you an idiot?" She asked walking straight to the cot. He grimaced at her as he moved his body. They had stripped his armour down to his waist so they could wrap him, but his legs were still awkwardly locked inside the slick layer. He knew his boots were probably tearing into the thin bedding._

_"Where did you learn your bedside manner?" He asked panting as he tried to find some ease from the pain._

_"Probably the same place you learned to duck and cover," she countered looking down at him. She fell on the clasps of his boots. He tried to swat her away but collapsed hissing into the mattress. She made quick work of undressing him. Leaving him in his undershield, the thick woven undergarment meant to protect from attacks that penetrated his armour. The blaster bolt had found a seam and met his skin. All the movement had made his wound bleed. Blue was blooming over the white bandage. "Yon."_

_Her eyes didn't leave the blood covering his shoulder. Her hands reached tentatively to touch it. She sank beside the bed, her hands tauntingly far from him. He knew she felt the passion between them when he made love to her, but she always laughed at the idea it was something deeper than just attraction. Now he realized she was seeing and feeling it full force for the first time. He suddenly thought he wouldn't mind being shot again._

_"Why does it feel like this?" She asked a painful note in her voice. "Why does it feel like I am the one that's been shot?"_

_"I told you, Vers. It's my blood in your veins. By all laws of nature and Kree you are mine."_

_"And are you mine?" She asked. She never liked the way he expressed ownership of her._

_"In many ways yes," the pain was beginning to get to him. He felt tired._

_"In all the ways?"_

_"No, you have not offered me your blood. I am yours because you guard my blood. You protect it from being spilled by our enemies. You are mine because you are completely under my protection. You are the chalice of my body."_

_"And if I were to offer you my blood?" Her voice had grown small and tight. Yon-Rogg realized his heart had begun to beat rapidly in anticipation. He tried to school himself, Vers' endless inquisitiveness was not the same as her accepting him as her bloodmate._

_"I would be yours, I would never leave your side. I would guard your blood as you guard mine. I would build a legacy from within your body and no force in the universe could part us." He breathed against the pain and the exhaustion._

_"Yon, I offer it to you,"_

* * *

 

She was lying on the mattress, looking at the stars when she heard the thumping of a motorcycle engine. She looked through the slats in the porch and thought she saw a light hovering at the end of Maria's driveway. Maria's house was far back off the road so that there was a bit of privacy afforded by trees and the small amounts of country traffic. Motorcycles were rare, but a motorcycle stopping at the end of the drive and being walked silently towards the house was even rarer. Carol was on high alert. She sat up slowly, shielding her aching eyes from the flickering headlight.

 

The light stopped but the footsteps continued. Carol stood up, her hair was still damp from her shower, the heat of the evening trapping the humidity against her skin. She recognized his silhouette immediately.

 

"Are you making house calls now?" She called out from the porch. She saw him freeze for a moment before he continued walking. He stopped in front of her porch. She was looking down at him from the deck.

 

"Is this your house then?" He asked taking in the dented metal exterior. Carol felt herself bristle at the way his eyes swept over it.

 

"Does your wife know you are here?" She enjoyed the way his spine straightened slightly.

 

"You missed your appointment today," he said stiffly.

 

"I didn't like the direction my treatment was taking," she smiled at him mockingly. He moved closer to her steps.

 

"I won't continue as your therapist. There are others I can recommend for you-" Carol laughed at him.

 

"Gee, Doc did you come all the way here to break up with me?"

 

"Danvers. What I did was wrong. I am not here to defend myself. I can't leave it like that."

 

"You didn't leave it. I stopped it. There is a difference." Carol had to stop looking at him. He was looking at her so earnestly it was making something deep in her want to reach out to him.

 

"Can we talk about this?"

 

"There is nothing to talk about. We both have other commitments." She glanced pointedly at his ring. He clenched his fist.

 

"Is this what is stopping you?" He asked her, "me being a fool?"

 

"Is that what it's called now?" She was going to go back into the trailer. Hide from him until he was left.

 

"She's gone." Carol's hand paused over the door as he called out desperately to her. "I know it sounds like a lie, but it's not I swear."

 

"Then why wear it?" Carol asked glancing over her shoulder.

 

"Habit, denial, an invisibility cloak from having to go through it all again." He began taking the steps. She turned to face him, leaning against the door. He reached her and worked the small gold band off his finger. He held it up to her. Her eyes were drawn to it in the moonlight. "Take it. Do whatever you want with it. Just hear me out."

 

Carol couldn't believe what she was hearing. She shook her head, it was starting to hurt. She needed to get back in the sky. She needed Yon to help her.

 

"Flyboys make lousy lays, don't you know that?" She asked turning back to the door. She was about to pull it open when his hand slammed against it, He turned her back to him. He pushed the ring into the palm of her hand closing her fingers over it. Once his hands were free he placed the other hand beside her head, framing her against the door with his body. Carol felt the tell-tale heartbeat between her thighs.

 

"Will you let me change your opinion on that point?" He asked leaning closer to her, his hands coming up to cup her neck. Carol narrowed her eyes at him, licking her lips. She had wanted him so bad and now he was here in front of her. Maybe, what she needed was to feel human again.

 

"If I find out you're lying about anything. I end you, is that clear?"

 

"Loud and clear, Danvers."

 

He pulled her closer so she could feel all of him through his clothes. He was as lean and strong as he looked. She felt his heartbeat in her own chest. His mouth on hers was insistent but soft. He ran his thumb over her jaw begging her silently to open for him. She softened her mouth and let him lick into her, his tongue tasting her and making everything inside her flow towards her core. She wanted him so badly, she wanted him to kiss her hard. She wanted him to be rougher with her. His hand moved to the back of her head, the other moving to wrap around her waist, pull her even closer against him. He started slowly rocking into her, his thigh finding space between her legs as she was backed against the door feeling nothing but the solid heat of him pull her deeper and closer. He was putting beautiful pressure against all her forgotten places. He took her hands where they were curled against his side and pulled her arms around his neck. She stretched against him, his hands moving over her ribs spreading his fingers wide as if he meant to count them. He moved the heels of his hands over her back catching all her tight muscles, causing sparks down her spine. He ended at her hips cupping her and lifting her so she had no choice but to wrap her legs around his waist. He grunted against her lips, his mouth still devouring hers. One arm wrapped around her and the other reached blindly for the door handle,

 

Carol pulled back laughing, letting her hands card through his hair. He pulled away from her, mouth supple and marked by her teeth. He was looking at her confused.

 

"I moved my bed out here," she said awkwardly. He looked over and saw the mattress on the bare wood of the deck. He looked for a moment like he might laugh. He swallowed it, kissing her neck instead. He turned them so he could walk towards the mattress. He dropped to his knees on the rumpled bedding. He bent forward letting her fall from him her body bouncing on the mattress. He pushed up her shirt, covering her ribs with kisses that cooled in the night air.

 

"Maybe we shouldn't do this here," she panted, arching her body into his wicked mouth, he was sucking the sensitive skin stretched over her ribs. She looked down her body, pale in the moonlight, as he shoved her shirt higher teeth scraping over the swell of her breast. She rolled her head back, swallowing a moan.

 

"We should," he said sitting up so he could pull off his shirt. His body was all sinew and golden skin in the night air. Carol's mouth went dry. "It's late no one will see."

 

"You're right, we should." She agreed breathless as he pushed her into the mattress, his mouth on her neck while his hands pulled at the fastening of her jeans. She felt the ring slip from her grip, but she didn't care as it slid down between the bedding and their bodies. They pulled off their clothes quickly, pausing every once in a while so they could lick and taste newly revealed skin. She kept closing her eyes against the world wanting to make two Yons and the stars wanting to spin. He stopped to watch her as she scrunched her eyes shut.

 

"Just grip here when you need a break," he lay her body back on the mattress taking her hand and wrapping it around the post of the porch. He kissed her mouth, "then I will know."

 

She nodded keeping her eyes closed but wrapping her arms around his neck. He reached for his underwear, slipping them down his body. When he settled between her legs again he was all hot skin and muscle. It had been so long since she had felt pinned in place, solidly on the earth.

 

"Wait," she kissed him, leaning forward to search for her jeans. She found the rough denim and pulled it towards her. She sent up a quick prayer to Maria as she pulled the small foil packet out of her pocket. He took it from her turning it in the moonlight. "What? It's the 80s"

 

"I was just wondering who you were expecting that you had this in your pocket," he laughed tearing the packet open with his teeth.

 

"Just like the Boy Scouts say; Always Be Prepared" she flashed her eyes at him, as he laughed into her shoulder. He shivered slightly as he rolled it down over himself. She couldn't remember feeling so ready, as if she had missed him.

 

He slid back on the mattress urging her leg over him, he sat up so he could wrap his arms around her. She lowered down onto him slowly, he caught his lip between his teeth pressing his forehead into her shoulder. She started to move against him, he rolled his hips up to meet her. He was so hot and solid. He felt so real. She had missed feeling real. She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his neck, riding him as he pushed her hips more firmly against him. She could feel the heat building between them already. She moaned as he found a place deep inside that made her heart beat faster and her muscles shake. The world started to spin as she came closer. She leaned back trying to negotiate with her body, Yon was looking at her with fire in his eyes. He was panting, she could see a glint of teeth in the moonlight as his lip twitched with the effort of keeping her moving over him. His hands came up to her ribs and held her, he pushed her even farther back so he rubbed against her in new and wonderful ways, his eyes darting down to watch where their bodies joined.

 

The world would not stay still. Carol groaned leaning forward into the constant rhythm of his hips and gripped her hand around the wooden post, her eyes closed tightly. Without a word Yon held her close, lying back so she was pulled with him. Once there he freed her hand from the post and rolled them so she was beneath him. He reached up returning her hands to posts.

 

"Hold on, it will be fine I promise," he whispered to her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. He moved his body against her, she focused on anchoring her world to the porch as Yon moved into her over and over. Her legs came up around him, her hips tilting to take him deeper. She started to feel her skin turn to lightning and Starfire. She felt the clenching and release of her body as he drove into her one last time, the heat ebbing into her. He collapsed onto her for a moment before he rolled onto his back beside her, long limbs languid. The air moving over them cooling the sweat on their bodies. She rocked the sheet out from under him so she could spread it over them. Everywhere it touched her nerves felt like they were raw and crackling.

 

She lay her ear against Yon's chest and felt the pump of blood throb against her skin as if they would melt into one.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Burn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I couldnt wait and am posting this early. Excuse mistakes I will fix them in a couple hours.
> 
> Blame Mink for psyching me up with all her comments.

"What are you doing here?" Monica's small voice woke her up with a start. Carol looked down quickly realizing she was wrapped up in a sheet. Yon didn't seem to still be on the porch. Carol didn't know if she was mad or relieved.

 

"It was too hot in the trailer last night LT. Give me a minute kiddo," Monica sighed turning her back. Carol began searching for her clothes. She pulled the white sheet up over her head so she could fight into her jeans and shirt under the covers. The world was bright and peaceful under there. She could smell the faded cologne and sweat. Her stomach did a small flip.

 

"Is that why you're naked?" Carol heard a small voice and she laughed, embarrassed.

 

"I'm not naked I'm just not dressed" she called from inside the double layer of her covers and her shirt.

 

"What's the difference?" Monica asked with a hint of childlike exasperation. She was just like a mini-Maria sometimes.

 

"I will tell you when you're older." Carol answered crawling dressed from under the covers. "Now, how can I help you, Trouble?"

 

Carol froze as she saw the black and green glint of Yon's motorcycle still parked a ways down the driveway. He was still here somewhere. She didn't want to think about how happy that made her. Monica followed Carol's eyes seeing the motorcycle. She raised her eyebrows at Carol her mouth in a small pout. Definitely mini-Maria.

 

"Mom had to go in, She said you would give me breakfast."

 

"Okay, give me two seconds." Carol said nervously, holding up her two index fingers as she backed towards the trailer.

 

She opened the door, pulling hard as the screen stuck. She stuck her head in looking up and down the darkened space. To her surprise Yon was sitting at the kitchenette, his glasses were perched on his nose and he had the innards of her coffeemaker spread out in front of him.

 

"Do I even want to know what you are doing?" She asked coming into the yellow light of the kitchen. He was dressed, but he looked wonderfully rumpled. Carol felt warmth spread low across her belly. She shouldn't be so happy he was here.

 

"I am making coffee" he said barely glancing at her, he was turning a part of the coffee maker closely in front of his eyes.

 

"Personally, I always add the water first," she smiled at him. Leaning on the other side of the table. The dumb thing rarely worked so she really didn't mind he had pulled it apart. "You have a thing for fixing broken stuff, have you noticed?"

 

"I didn't know whether I should negotiate with it or put it out of its misery" he said looking up at her with the half smile that had her clenching her thighs together. She smiled back. There was a shuffling on the porch and Carol shook her head. She had almost forgot.

 

"Monica is here."

 

"Monica?"

 

"I need to make her breakfast."Carol glanced at the table.

 

"Oh, right. I will just clear this away." Yon looked awkwardly around him.

 

Carol opened the door and saw Monica standing on her mattress trying to peak in the windows.

 

"Hey LT, didn't your mom tell you it's rude to spy?" Monica turned to her, a surprised look on her face.

 

"You said its only rude if I get caught."

 

"Ya, well you're caught. Get your butt in here." Carol held the door open for her and Monica climbed awkwardly over the mattress and squeezed between Carol and the door.

 

She stopped when she saw Yon sitting with his small pile of coffeemaker parts. Monica's big brown eyes went from Carol and Yon.

 

"Does mom know you have a friend over?" Monica looked back at Carol before turning to Yon. "We have to ask if we want someone to sleep over."

 

Yon raised his eyebrows at Carol, a barely contained smile twitching on his lips.

 

"I don't have to ask your mom if I can have people over. This is my place." Carol was giving Monica a significant look. She thought she heard Yon laugh, her head snapped up to him. She assured him, "I don't have to ask."

 

Monica hopped up on the other seat across from Yon and immediately began reaching for coffee maker parts.

 

"Mom says you are a free loader who doesn't pay rent." Monica said looking up at Carol through the side of her eye. Yon was breathing hard trying to hold in a laugh.

 

"Your Mom only says that when she wants me to help her with something. She doesn't mean it." Carol gave Monica another significant look. Willing the girl to not cause trouble. It was futile, there was good reason for her nickname.

 

"So you won't mind if I tell her I met your friend?" Monica said innocently turning a bit of plastic between her hands.

 

"Okay, what do you want?" Carol stopped looking in the fridge and turned to look at Monica with narrowed eyes. She couldn't believe she was negotiating with a mini-blackmailer.

 

"Is that your motorcycle outside?" Monica fixed Yon with her big brown eyes.

 

"How old are you?" He asked considering her carefully.

 

"She's five," Carol answered for her, putting glasses of orange juice in front of Monica and Yon. "No motorcycles."

 

"Were you naked this morning too?" Monica asked, Yon choked on his mouthful of juice.

 

"LT" Carol said half in shock, half laughing.

 

"Sorry I mean 'not dressed'" Monica looked up at Carol under her long eyelashes. The kid was lethal.

 

"Okay kid, what will your silence cost?"

 

"I want to go to the arcade. And you have to let me play Street Fighter."

 

"Deal" Carol stuck out her hand. She smiled at Yon, "Congratulations it was like you were never here."

 

"I don't know about that," he looked at her with his warm yellow eyes. Carol felt a blush prickle from behind her ears all the way down to her chest. She turned quickly back to the eggs she was making before either of her guests could see.

 

* * *

 

Yon-Rogg smelled of fire and ash. The city was burning and it clung tightly to him. It was ground into the pores of his flesh and his sweat was so polluted it stung in his mouth when he moved his tongue over his chapped lips. He had been on his feet, awake and prowling through the streets since early dawn. The fire hadn't been burning yet and the city had seemed almost peaceful.

 

He had never been a part of these sorts of missions before he had returned to Hala. He wasn't leading a team nor was he performing reconnaissance. He was like a dog released upon the streets to control the populace. He would herd people through the ash of their homes into holding areas, or transport ships. It was his orders that if he suspected they were rebels or troublemakers he was to kill them and leave them where they lay.

 

He returned to base, bone deep exhaustion was pulling his body down. He wanted only to lie in his cot and forget the horrors he had wreaked upon women and children in order to protect his own family. He had been on Zendinar for three weeks. He did not know how much longer they would be camped here, it seemed like there would soon be no more city to burn. He had just sunk onto his cot when the light on his comm began to blink. He sighed, his body fighting the idea of standing up again. Standing in front of Ni-Er as her face shone with glee at the domination of the Kree was its own trial. She was kinder to him now his wife was far away from them. She spoke to him with respect, she congratulated him on his successes. He was sick with it. He hated his skill for war. He resented that he was able to perform the duties of it. He wondered how early his soul had been poisoned that his body had grown to be a weapon of destruction. He wondered if his seed was also polluted.

 

The comm did not hold a summons from Ni-Er. Instead it was incomprehensible spam written in poorly structured basic. Yon-Rogg squinted at the small falling message. As his eyes took it in his stomach dropped. This was what he had been waiting for since arriving planetside. He had sent the message into the aether in hopes he would be answered. For three weeks he had nothing but silence. He had assumed that he had been unsuccessful. He had used his comm to hack into a rudimentary communications system on Zendinar. His message was simple. The Star has Fallen.

 

Now it seemed he was being contacted. The scrolling message was near incomprehensible unless one unfocused their eyes and merely watched the block of text scroll by.

 

_Have you heard the good word. The word to be heard. Do you listen to the word of the universe. Have you placed yourself in the path of the star shine. Hear the word. Let it call you into the darkness let it pull light from you. Wash your uniform with Brakers white powder. Remove the mildew from your compressors. Leaves engines whiter than before. Never leave the house without your tin of Brakers. Never leave. Never leave without it._

 

It cycled on and on. However in between the blocks was spaces were small holes where information was hidden. Be Placed Hear Brakers Engine House Leave.

 

There was in the center of the city a downed cargo craft. It had been carrying supplies to the rebels hiding in the moutains. It had been shot down by the Kree as a first strike in sedating the rebellion. The shattered engine housing had become a refuge for those running from their burning homes to hide from the bombing. Yon-Rogg would have to go there. He was certain that was where he was meant to go.

 

The ship's carcass was quiet as the fires burned around it. The heat that peeled off the buildings in waves was intolerable. Yon-Rogg was dressed in his armour. He was prepared to say he was hunting rebels. The chip beneath his skin was hot as his heart beat fast in his chest. He had to control it or Ni-Er would be summoned to find him.

 

He entered the shell of the engine, weapon drawn. His footsteps echoed as his eyes strained in the dark to see. He could hear the groaning of heated metal and clinking of debris being battered against the side. His only warning he was not alone was the scuff of a boot moments before a figure emerged from the shadows. Yon-Rogg aimed his weapon at the cloaked figure.

 

"You look well-cooked," the voice that came from within the folds of the cloak sent waves of relief through Yon-Rogg. Though he would never admit it, he was happy the man had come in person. Yon-Rogg holstered his weapon. "I wouldn't say things have grown so peaceful between us you should meet me unarmed, Kree."

 

"I didn't think you would come," Yon-Rogg answered searching for a sign in the stranger's face he was who he thought he was.

 

"You have lost the woman to whom my people owe a debt. I should kill you myself." His face became his own and Talos stood in front of Yon-Rogg for the first time in years.

 

"You know then what has happened? The deal I have made?"

 

"It was not hard to figure out. Captain Marvel disappears and suddenly her paramour is seen planetside undoing everything she worked for. What I mean to find out is the exact shape and weight of your betrayal."

 

"She was dying," Yon-Rogg said fighting to keep his emotions in check. "Only the Kree could save her. I made a deal. I did not know she carried our child. I need to save them both now."

 

Talos was numb with shock. He had not expected this to be the nature of the Kree's request. Yon-Rogg fell to his knees before his old enemy. Talos looked down at him with rage and disgust.

 

"You placed your woman in the jaws of the beast and now you expect my people to be the ones to reach in and pull her out."

 

"You owe my wife a debt."

 

"A debt I cannot answer without exposing our newly claimed peace to our enemies. My friend would never ask for our debt to be cleared by risking our lives. She would not want a thousand's year war restarted because of the sins of her lover."

 

Talos began to walk away. The Kree's voice stopped him.

 

"That is your answer? You will not help her. Her or our child?" Anger burned through Yon-Rogg that the Skrull would turn his back on him.

 

"The heart of a father cannot beat in the chest of a leader" Talos said setting his shoulders in defiance for Yon-Rogg's anger.

 

"I cannot accept that." Yon-Rogg was awash with despair. The Skrulls had been his greatest hope. They were the most prepared to wage an attack against his enemies.

 

"That is because you are neither a leader nor a father." Talos turned away from the pathetic man before him but the horrible swallowing fear for his friend would not let him leave. He turned back to the man on the ground. He walked towards him and sucked his teeth. "Listen, Kree. If your slaughtering should lead you to a planet call Nefros. There is a man there, Gerault, who can commune with systems as a shaman would commune with the spirits. If you find him. If you can buy his help he holds the key to the AI's prison."


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you guys do at 4AM? Apparently I post fan fiction. One day I will finish this story and then I can focus on more important things like eating vegetables and doing laundry. Apparently today is not that day.
> 
> Please leave me a comment and let me know what you think :-) this chapter is a little sparse on plot but it has.... Other things to recommend it.
> 
> Linking a great smutty fic here that has similar themes to this chapter. I hope you give it lots of love  
> [ **Favorite**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18538300) (2620 words) by [**arigato**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arigato)
> 
> *** Also Danni if this update makes your iPad ding at 5AM I don't want to hear it. You knew you should have out it on silent :-P****

Nefros.

 

Yon-Rogg had been turning the name of the planet over and over in his mind. He felt like he was alive only within the spaces and gaps of information the Skrull gave him. A man with the key to the SI existed within the known universe. It seemed impossible to believe. There was no way if it was true he would be free. The SI would have dedicated every resource to stopping him. And by finding him on his own Yon-Rogg would be drawing attention to a very valuable man. Was the Skrull right? Was there a limit to what Yon-Rogg had the right to risk in order to save her?

 

He shook his head against the doubt. Captain Marvel was worth more to the universe than any other being. Saving her would be saving entire planets, entire races and cultures from the machinations of war. She would have stopped Zendinar burning where Yon-Rogg had been the one to hold the match.

 

A scant hour after leaving Yon-Rogg found himself back in his bunk. Around him were empty beds or sleeping Kree. It had been many years since he had slept among the men and women he fought with. He had forgotten the small intricacies of it. The way you kept your head down. The small islands of mental space you provided your comrades. Now Minn-Erva was sleeping in the Commander's quarters. Or Ni-Er he corrected. It had been months and he was no closer to understanding the change in her, but Carol had taught him the importance of names. As he sank down on his bunk and leaned forward on his knees feeling the pain in his muscles stretching he recognized the gnawing loneliness he felt. It was not just the absence of his bondmate. That wound was unending and he was always aware of it. It was that they were separated across uncounted light years and he had no one he could call to aid his quest. No one he trusted. He had tried with the Skrull to summon her allies, but they viewed him as a pathetic villain. Unworthy of her to begin with but doubly unworthy of having her returned to him. Even now he was surrounded by his own people and he had no one. He had deserted his team, allowed them to disappear into the strange confusion of the failed Torfa Mission. He did not even know who had survived. They had been certain Minn was dead, but she was here. He tried to shake the loneliness from him. There would be no cure for it. He had smelled of death since long before he had burned Zendinar.

* * *

Carol felt like she had been staring at the colours on the screen, but not truly seeing them. After Yon had left she felt a new numbness. It was different from before. It was deeper, more defined. She was embarrassed that she had nearly begged him to stay or demanded to know when they would see each other again. She had no reserve apparently, no sense of self-preservation. She should be worried how this would look in her investigation. She should be wondering what this meant for her recovery. Instead all she could think of was the feeling of him saying goodbye. His wary glance at Monica before giving her arm a squeeze and leaning in close to her ear. He had said he would see her soon. His words soft and intimate making the memory of his body over hers prickle to life beneath her skin. She had just nodded dumbly biting her cheek to stop herself smiling too hard or saying something stupid.

 

As agreed her and Monica had caught a bus down to the arcade. For the first time in a while Carol didn't feel overwhelmed by the world around her, even though she couldn't aim the rifle for the shooter Monica had begged her to play to save her life and she had been eaten by a particularly insistent zombie.

 

Now they were sitting in Maria's living room, Carol on the couch and Monica on the floor. The sound of keys and then the thumping of boots dropping announced Maria had returned home. Monica stood up immediately running to the door. She glanced back at Carol who pointed at her eyes then at Monica, silently reminding her that she had her end of the bargain to hold up.

 

"Hey baby girl, you have a good day?" Maria asked as she picked her daughter up in a big bear hug. Maria had a brown bag clutched in her hand.

 

"We went to the Arcade," Monica answered, squeezing her mom tightly.

 

"That sounds fun, you take good care of Auntie Carol while I was gone?" Maria asked releasing her daughter and standing up.

 

"What's that?" Monica asked pointing at the bag in Maria's hands.

 

"Nothing baby, can you go play in your room for a bit? I want Auntie Carol all to myself."

 

Monica shot her mom a suspicious look, but nodded leaving the room. Once she was gone Maria threw the bag at Carol who barely managed to catch it. Carol peaked inside before immediately crumpling it shut looking where Monica had disappeared to.

 

"Why are you giving me these?" She asked a red blush creeping up her neck.

 

"For motorcycle man," Maria answered her grin like the cat who got the cream. "I don't want to have to set up a nursery in that trailer. It's barely fit for you to live in."

 

"I don't- how-" Carol stammered. The powder blue box of condoms hidden in the brown bag felt like it was a bomb.

 

"You think I wasn't going to notice that fine Harley parked in my driveway? I am not going to pry. I am going to go make dinner, I assume you are staying," Maria lifted her hands as he retreated to the kitchen, Carol's mouth was moving like a guppy's. Maria paused at the door as if she remembered something, "and Danvers get your damn bed off the front lawn."

 

* * *

 

He had been staring at the ceiling unable to sleep for hours. The sweat and ash itched below his skin. He had forgotten how unpleasant it was to stay in this constant state of preparedness. Always suited, always ready for the next alarm, always moving forward. It painted the times of peace he had had with Vers over the last four years as a luxury. He lay back and closed his eyes. He could summon her in his mind, breathe to keep his heart rate low and just float on the surface of memory.

 

He was lying their bed. She had been gone for so long. He didn't remember where or why, he just remembered how the desire to touch her had been growing more and more intense now she was back. He waited on edge for the sounds of the shower to stop. He stood up and began pacing back and forth listening to the sounds of her moving through the ship. He refused to go to her, he was determined to practice patience. Except she wasn't coming.

 

In his bunk on Zendinar Yon-Rogg felt the regulator burning against his rising heart beat. He couldn't give in to this part of the memory. He rolled his shoulders into the mattress. Forget the part where you waited for her, he chastised his fickle brain, remember after.

 

There was something abour Vers' skin immediately after a shower. It was hard to describe with words but his body remembered it. The warmth of it, the way she felt more real and closer, like he was touching her without the miasma of the outside world. It was his desire for this rawness that broke his resolve and sent him to look for her before her skin cooled and the water dried. As he stalked through the ship he found her in the airlock of all places. She was walking around the small craft docked there, her hand nonchalantly rubbing a towel into her hair. Water was dripping off her hair and rolling down her shoulders. As the light caught each droplet Yon-Rogg wanted to lick the water from the curves of her skin. He felt like nothing would satisfy his hunger or his thirst like the water that collected against her flesh. He wanted to kneel in front of her and find all the hidden places where she was warm and wet.

 

As she came around one side of the ship she saw him and smiled. She looked so calm. He felt like he was burning for her and she was smiling at him as if she had been gone no longer than an instant.

 

"I thought you would be in bed," she said walking towards him. She stopped. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

 

"I'm not looking at you like anything," he said, he could feel his teeth catching the inside of his cheek. He wanted to sully her on the floor of the airlock.

 

"You are looking at me like you want to lecture me about something. Control it," she flashed her eyes at him, made to move passed him. He caught her and backed her into the small craft she had returned in. He tucked her neatly against the door so she was almost touching the wing of the craft.

 

"Are your comms functioning?" He had growled at her, keeping their bodies a hair width apart but blocking her. She was practically smirking at him.

 

"They are working great. Are yours?" She asked her voice sunny, conversational, belying the heat that was growing between them.

 

"Really? Because you have been out of contact," he narrowed his eyes at her, leaning into her space.

 

"I was busy. Why? Did you miss me?" She started to step away from the metal and glass she was pressed against. He shifted his shoulder so she couldn't easily move, his body blocked one side and the short fat wing of the craft blocked her other.

 

"Vers," his voice warned. He realized his mistake as a satisfied grin spread over her face. She was Carol now. Always Carol. Unless he was in the throes of making love to her. She was only Vers when his control was already slipping.

 

"Yon," she breathed back. She was a challenge, everything about her was made to challenge him. No matter how hard he battered his heart against her she never crumbled. She was always laughing, always teasing, always driving him further, farther than he ever thought he would go for a woman. He wanted her blood inside him. He wanted her to admit she reigned over him. He wanted to give in to something so completely it reshaped him into the vessel of another soul.

 

"We don't fall out of contact," he stepped closer to her, he wanted to show her he meant it. He wanted her to understand he couldn't stand being parted from her. What it cost him to let go of his control over her. He grabbed her wrists and wrapped them around his neck. He felt her breath hitch. He knew her sounds so well. His hands spread over ribs, reveling in the firm muscles of her body. "Do you hear me?"

 

"Loud and clear, Commander." He grunted as he pulled her hard against him. Even when she was conceding she knew how to drive him wild. She grasped him tightly fingers digging into his shoulders as he surprised her by picking her up. He practically threw her onto the low wing. Her ass hit it hard sending a groaning echo through the air lock. He fell on her clothes, pulling them off quickly, stopping only to let his tongue lick into each new curve and hollow he exposed.

 

"Are we really going to do this here?" She panted as he licked the curve beneath her breast collecting the humidity and taste of her against his tongue. He placed his knee between her legs, climbing up after her so he kneeled above her.

 

"Yes, we are," he answered stripping his shirt off and collapsing down on her again, pinning her against the metal and kissing her thoroughly.The smell of soap, ozone and sweat rose around them as their bodies warmed to each other.

 

As he rolled off her to remove the last of his clothes he moved so he was reclined where the wing met the canopy, cool glass and metal pushing against his body. Vers moved with him. She straddled him and he wrapped his arms around her; one at her hips the other over her shoulders. She would ride him but he could control her like this, push her further, position her better. He tried not to think of the damage they could be doing to the interior balance of the craft. He couldn't stop now. She was slipping down over him. He gripped her harder waiting until he was completely seated in her before he began to rock them together. She tried to curve her body into him, but he tilted her back again so he could see her body as she moved over him. He wanted to watch her. He heard and felt her panting increase, the small, strong muscles inside her tightening around him in miniscule fractions.

 

"I can't just stop everything and call," she moaned. He held her hips harder. He reached for the place where their bodies joined. There was no way he was going to leave her capable of speech. "I get busy."

 

"I don't care how busy you are," he panted. The words stacatto against the rhythm of their bodies. "We call at the eighteen hour mark. That's protocol."

 

She wrapped her arms harder around his shoulder, pushing him deeper as the ache for release grew at the base of his spine.

 

"It's an ineffective system," she said low in his ear, her mouth falling hot and desperate on his jugular. He groaned loudly and flipped them over. He was losing control. He wouldn't let her finish him first. She found herself suddenly reclined against the glass, her body hot and desperate. He held her wrists above her head as he pushed into her again.

 

"More than twenty two hours and I would have called in back up." He grunted into her shoulder as her hands found purchase on the frame of the craft.

 

"Who? It's just us now Yon," she managed before he felt her tense and throb. The new heat surrounded him, making him more desperate, bringing him closer.

 

The regulator beneath his skin fired a warning blast of agony across his nerves. He gasped hard against the shock as his throbbing body was ejected from the memory. He hadn't meant to lose himself in it. His skin felt too tight around him as the adrenaline of the shock and the clarity of the memory fought for dominance in his nervous system.

 

His comm lit up and he saw the summons from Ni-Er. He was being reckless.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Run off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting fast during lunch. I will edit this later. The insert the usual begging for love here

Yon-Rogg sat up slowly from his bunk his body aching from the regulator and being denied his release. He looked at his comm again to be sure he wasn't imagining anything. Ni-Er had summoned him.

He pushed from the bunk stretching his aching limbs. It wouldn't help his case to make her wait and there was something of his Kree training in him that could not relax once he had his orders.

He walked through the silent rows of cots spread out through the reclaimed base. Despite their shows of force, the ground teams for the Kree empire were very spartan. At this level they were almost all pink skinned and young. Even at his lowest Yon-Rogg had been spared this life due to his father's influence. He had never considered before how the Empire kept its kennel. Ni-Er's room was towards the back of the large vaulted room. Yon-Rogg thought it might have been a place of worship before the Kree had come to eradicate the rebels. It was in their doctrine to remove the gods of any planet they descended upon. There would be only the Supreme Intelligence, any conquered planet would be made to kneel before order and efficiency before compassion and grace.

He knocked on the door and it was opened by a young man. Barely old enough to be away from the academy. Most likely he was a messenger. He scurried passed Yon-Rogg as he entered. He stood a few feet from the door at attention. Ni-Er had her hair down and was standing over the contents of a black enameled box. She glanced at him as he came in, but her eyes quickly returned to the box. She was unpacking it slowly, stacking the contents on the table. Yon-Rogg recognized the fired black of the pottery, but he didn't know why such a thing would be here.

"You know what this is, Commander?" Ni-Er asked inspecting the vessels. She raised her eyebrows slightly, "You might as well come all the way into the room and take a proper look."

"I am familiar with it," Yon-Rogg said curtly taking another step into the room. He didn't know what she was playing at. Sometimes he was so certain she was trying to send him some message, other times she seemed to truly be a different person.

She walked to the low settee and sat down, gesturing towards the table. It was clear he was meant to actually look. He found as he neared the table, he felt a familiar itch beneath his skin. There was something among the stacks of dishes that called to him.

"How long has it been since you have seen something like this, Commander?" Ni-Er always sounded so sarcastic when she used his rank. Yon-Rogg assumed it was because she resented it had been returned to him. He glanced at her as she asked. This was one of those moments where he wondered if she was hinting to him.

"Like this?" He emphasized, "not since I joined Starforce."

He truly looked at her for the first time since he had been summoned. He had managed to push down the rampant desire he had ignited in himself. He had learned a valuable lesson about his control. Apparently, there were some memories he could not coolly float above. Ni-Er was reclined on the settee, her arms stretched over the back and her legs crossed in front of her. She wasn't in her armour. She nonchalantly made small circles with her one foot, every so often a flash of blue skin could be seen at the opening of her robe. Yon-Rogg took her in carefully. She seemed poised to say something, to ask something of him, but first she wanted him to say something in return. To offer up the first piece of trade.

"How did it come to be here?" He asked.  
"I had it brought here especially," Ni-Er looked at him closely, watching his smallest move.

He bit back the question he wanted to ask. He wanted to know if she remembered. Was he supposed to ask her about that night? He straightened his shoulders under her scrutiny as he surveyed the package again. Trying to decide if they were the same ones or only similar. The box had contained all four traditional vessels of any Kree home, they were of excellent quality. They looked like the ones that came from his father's house. He didn't know why they would be here, or why Ni-Er would have gone to the trouble of asking for them.

Except to remind him. To confront him with their shared past. A move that made no sense from a woman who insisted she had no memories, that she wasn't who he thought she was.

"You can touch them," she said, arching an eyebrow at him as if she knew how his fingers twitched to run his hand over them. She stood up and her robe moved over her, the fabric slithering around her so that small glimpses of her well muscled warrior's body could be seen. Yon-Rogg wondered if she had considered how this would look to the men and women sleeping beyond her doors. If they knew their commander was not suited up and waiting as they were for the next call to action.

She came to stand beside him as if she read his hesitation. He was filthy. His body wreaked of the terror he had caused among the streets of Zendinar. He could not bring himself to touch the sacred items in front of him. Khun Zan Uil. The Warrior's ritual. Three bowls; the one that pours, the one that catches and the one that holds. All formed for their use out of the dark clay found deep in the ground of their homeworld. These were glazed even darker and were inlaid with a single band of gold. The fourth was a small bottle. The last time he had used a proper set had been before they left for Starforce.

He and Minn-Erva had come up through the ranks together. He knew, it had been implied to him heavily by his father, that it would behoove his pink skinned son to secure a partner in the young warrior. Minn was everything that the Kree aspired to; blue-skinned, beautiful and deadly. He had approached her with this intention, but despite all there was to recommend her and how deep a respect he had for her skills nothing about her called to him as a man to a woman. If Minn sensed his disingenuity she remained silent on the issue. They learned they were to leave for Starforce together the day before. Timing that had always seemed suspicious to Yon-Rogg even though he knew they had both earned their place.

Minn had been on edge as they hovered between their two worlds. She was so terse, so focused most would have missed how nervous she was. Her hands strayed constantly to her rifle. She had moved it, cleaned it, checked its site over and over. Yon-Rogg felt it too, the fear of failure. The unknown stretching before them. He had suggested they perform the Warrior’s Ritual together. At first, Minn had snarled at him. She asked him if he thought they were going to die. He told her he would rather live cleansed than take the risk of dying dirty. She hadn’t laughed or agreed; her face had been a mask. When he stood she followed.

He hadn’t asked his father or mother’s permission. They had been off world and it had seemed a larger intrusion to call them than to merely slip into his father’s study and take the box that held their family vessels. Minn had been deadly silent as he spread out the bowls. The glazed surfaces had clattered together because his hands were shaking. They stripped down to their inner layers, neither one looking at the other’s body. Yon-Rogg did not remember what it was to be without scars. His skin had been smooth, his muscles new from their time in the academy, his body untested, untempered. Minn’s body to him was nothing more than a shade in his periphery. Their breathing had been heavy not because of the heat in their blood, but the heaviness of their hearts. He realized now how scared they both were even if the words were never spoken between them.

He had barely tinted the water with the Kree herb, he had opened the bottle and the smell had risen immediately. He felt it to his very core and the weight of what they were about to do descended heavy in his gut. He had not been willing to put more than a few drops into the water in the largest vessel. Deep and wide, it was the one that holds. He took the small clay cup and filled it with water. In his other hand he had the shallow, flat dish that was to catch the water. He turned to Minn, unsure of himself, he wished she would look up at him and reassure him. She didn’t, she kept her eyes down. She held up her hands, palms to the ceiling, and Yon-Rogg had carefully poured the water over them. He moved the dish beneath her, catching the water as it ran off her skin, cursing any drips that escaped down her legs or onto the floor.

After he handed the dish to her and she had done the same for him, except she had moved with precision and calm. Her sniper’s hands never wavered, and she didn’t seem to need him to look up at him. The water once poured over them was rubbed into their skin with cloths. They turned from each other each repeating the motions shown to them since they were children.

When they finished, they dressed in silence and discarded the water. They did not look at each other or speak as they returned to the barracks for their last night. Yon-Rogg never knew how Minn had felt after, but as he lay in his bunk, he felt his heart calm and his muscles relax. He felt certain of the path the next morning would bring.

 

Now they were in front of him again and he didn’t understand why. Ni-Er moved around him. She unstacked the dishes and spread them before him. She brought water from her bedside and filled the holding vessel. Yon-Rogg watched her as she moved around him, his feet rooted in place, his mind trying to guess her intention. Once the vessel was filled, she lifted the small dark bottle from where it had stayed nestled in the silk interior of the box. She held it in front of him and Yon-Rogg’s eyes followed it as if it were a viper. His question must have shown in his eyes because Ni-Er smiled a cold smile at him.

  
“Have you still not figured out why you are here?” She asked her voice dripping with pity. She placed the small bottle on the table at the centre of the three.

 

“I would prefer you give me my orders and I can leave you to your ritual in peace,” Yon-Rogg responded tersely. He felt dirtier standing here than he had laying in his bare bunk conjuring visions of his wife.

  
“Our ritual, Commander, the ritual of the Kree. This is the Commander’s cabin, these are the vessels of a powerful family, you and I are of the same rank. These are things I am willing to share. Things I am offering to you so you may show your commitment to the Supremor and to the Empire once again.”

  
Yon-Rogg felt the implications of her words roll heavily down his spine. His skin screamed to be clean, his heart clenched at the thought of reanointing himself in the Warrior’s Ritual. He wondered the regulator had not burnt him yet the way he could feel the throb of blood in his veins. He instinctively ran his hand over his neck, fingers brushing the metal there. Ni-Er smiled at him.

 

“I have put your chip offline, for now,” She ran the back of her knuckles over his arm her eyes down cast. “There are times when giving in to feeling is necessary.”

 

Yon-Rogg shifted uncomfortably away from her. He thought he might have seen her stiffen at the incremental step he made. She must know he would reject her. She didn’t betray any feeling on her face. Instead she reached for the bottle again. Yon-Rogg felt his heart clench as she uncorked the bottle. The ancient herbs filled the air. As potent and as concentrated as they always were. He instinctively breathed in; he could feel the small shift as Ni-Er also drew breath. He had not smelled the scent of his people in many years.

 

He was immediately drawn back to the last time.

 

Vers was struggling. He could see it in her. He could see her frustration at her body, at the way it refused to be rushed. She needed patience, she needed to understand that it would take time, but how could he explain that without revealing that she should not know the things he was showing her. He had to continue to add to exasperation by deceiving her. It was eating at him. At night when he would try to free himself of thoughts from the day he would fixate on her. He would think of her body trying to school itself into new forms and a mind that was ceaselessly inquisitive trying to inhale as much as it could. He could see it burning her out, overwhelming her, driving her to frustrated sleepless nights. He would open the comm and listen to her pace.  
He couldn’t place when they idea had come to him, but once it sprung into his mind her it would not leave him. At last, he gave in to it.  
He knocked on her door and she opened it immediately. She smiled as soon as she saw him.

 

“Commander,” she greeted him, her lips quirked in a way that made his rank seem like a joke they shared. It should bother him, but it didn’t.

  
“Vers,” he greeted her. She didn’t move to let him pass or invite him in. He wondered if she was going to make him ask.

  
“What are you doing here?” As if she felt his hesitation she leaned in the doorway, blocking the way to her quarters.

  
"Let me in and I will tell you," he leaned in to her, his voice low and persuasive. He only spoke like this to her. She felt like his, like he could shape her with the slightest pressure to take the form of his desires. He usually resisted at other times he was weak.

  
She let him in. Her place was sparse. She did not gather things around her as others would. He pulled the small glass bottle from his pocket and placed it on her kitchenette. He moved to her cupboards. She watched him silently as he meandered through her space. She made a move to pick up the bottle, he could feel her moving behind him.

  
"Don't," he instructed looking through the cupboards.

  
"Normally people ask before they go through other people's things," Vers answered the clink of the bottle meeting the counter.

  
"Are you keeping secrets, Vers?" He asked pulling a small stack of dishes from the cupboard, putting them on the counter. She didn't answer him and he suddenly needed her to. Did she think she could hide anything from him? "Vers?"

  
"No, Commander," she said in mock seriousness. The tightness in his gut didn't ease. He hated the way he wanted all of her, even then. His devotion didn't serve him.

  
He filled the largest bowl with water, it was a pathetic substitute, but he thought it better to introduce her slowly to their traditions. Vers' eyes were fixed on his actions. He spoke to her while he worked.

  
"Khun Zan Uil. Ancient Kree for the Warrior's Ritual. It is how we prepare ourselves for battle and dedicate our bodies to the service of the Empire. Do you remember it?" He always asked this even thought he knew she would not, could not remember it. Making her feel helpless was part of the deceit. Vers shook her head. "You would have learned it since you were a child. It is one of the last ancient pieces of our culture."

  
"Why does the Supremor allow it?"

  
"Dedication is not just through the mind it is through the body and the spirit. The Supremor appreciates the role of ritual in honing spirit through repition as you would strengthen your body with exercise." He opened the vial and the smell of the ancient herb filled the air. It smelled to Yon-Rogg of earth and fire. He felt its immediate affect on him. He held it to Vers so she could also inhale. She closed her eyes. Yon-Rogg hoped she felt something, that it called to his blood in her.

  
He added the tincture to the water, making careful circles with his two fingers. Mixing the dark blue liquid into the water. He poured enough that small tendrils of blue black swirled before dying the water the colour of blood.

  
"No magic words?" Vers asked looking at him a little incredulously.

  
"We are silent. The Kree do not hide from our ancestors with words," he admonished. Vers dutifully closed her lips. Once it was mixed Yon-Rogg dried his hands on a cloth. He began to unzip his outer clothing. Vers' eyes went wide as he stripped down to the inner layer, his arms and shoulders exposed. "Its a washing ritual, Vers."

  
He saw her relax, her hands immediately finding the tie to her shirt. She fumbled with the knot. She always tied herself into her clothes. Once free she shrugged it off her shoulders. He liked how she wasn't shy, she did what needed to be done. Always one thousand question but always unnerring willingness. He hadn't considered this part, seeing her skin in soft focus as the sun set on Hala. He grit his teeth. Desire didn't serve him. She looked at him waiting. He decided he couldn't look at her like this.

  
He moved behind her, lining their bodies up, trying to forget the heat that rose off her.  
He picked up the cup and the plate, his arms encircling her so she was crowded against him. She didn't spare more than a glance at the ever shrinking space between them.

  
"Hold your hands out in front of you, palms up," Yon-Rogg instructed his voice a gravelly whisper in her ear. She followed his instruction.

  
He dipped the cup in the water and poured it over her wrists and hands. He moved the plate to capture the run off, but their awkward position meant the loss of some. He ignored it as he was focused on annointing her, in the way the dark blue water rolled over her skin. He placed the vessels down, her body pressed against him, skin to skin. He didn't mean for this. He prayed to his ancestors she couldn't feel his heart beat or feel the heat that was pooling lower for her. His body knew his mate even if they had never spoken the words out loud. Even if she didn't know what they shared.

  
"Now try it on me," he instructed. He should have let her go, should have turned her to face him but he couldn't look at her with the desire flooding him. So he brought his hands around in front of her, fully circling her. Vers was focused. Her mind aching to learn new things.

  
She awkwardly picked up the cup and dipped it in the bowl. The deep rich smell of the herb was making him feel warm.

  
"Not too full," he advised reaching for her hand to tip a little water out. He returned his hands in front of her, their bodies curving together. She poured it over him, trying to catch the water with the plate, not to pour it so fast it splashed. He could feel her shoulders tense with focus. He knew he was dripping onto her barefeet, their water mingling together in the dish. He reached for the cloth, his head nestled into her shoulder as he stretched.

  
"Now we move the water, always drawing away from the heart." He started at his own elbow moving to his wrist before handing her the cloth.

  
Ni-Er reaching for the clasp of his suit broke him from his revery. He jumped and she smiled at him.

  
"We leave Zendinar tomorrow," she said her hands moving to his gauntlets. "I know you have a soft spot for the more barbaric vestiges of our culture. I thought this would be a suitable reward for your work here."

  
"I don't consider this barbaric," Yon-Rogg answered. He wanted to wash himself, his skin had become an unbearable prison.

  
"Don't you think it hypocritical that you let that Terran hack at our Empire from the roots while you stare at water as if it would give you new life?" Ni-Er tapped the surface of the water with her finger causing ripples in the surface. Yon-Rogg stepped away from her. Stripping his armour to his waist.

  
"I am not ashamed of being Kree. I just no longer place my people above others. I serve a higher purpose."

  
"There is nothing higher than the Supremor," Ni-Er dipped the cup into the water and Yon-Rogg instinctively held out his hands. She poured the water over him, collecting it the flat dish.

  
She reached for the cloth, but Yon-Rogg took it from her. He would not let her touch him again.

  
"My wife burnt the Supremor from the inside out the last time they met. I told you I serve a higher power now." He moved the cloth over himself.

  
"You have forgotten then Commander, that it is the way of the Kree to steal the new gods before we conquer." Ni-Er dipped her finger in the low flat dish before bringing it to her lips.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mother Mother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe this sucker has a plot after all. Probably not.
> 
> fun fact spellcheck has informed me I can't spell "Motorcycle" unaided

Why did it always have to be so hot in the trailer? Carol didn't know what to do about it other than retreat outside. It was still hot, but at least she could see the stars. She no longer had beer to keep her company. She was trying to be better. She didn't want to die like her father, pining for someone who would never come home to her, so drunk she couldn't tell her body was shutting down. She leaned on the railing of the porch, pushing up so she was on her toes. She stretched trying to will the heat out of her body. She was getting weak. She was becoming a prisoner to her pain and her frustration. And now she might have to go through it without Yon.

 

It had not been long. Maybe she was being dramatic. It was not like she had a lot of experience with men. Or at least, men she wanted to see more than once. She just thought he would have been different. Not that she knew him. Carol pushed up again stepping out so her body was on a diagonal. She lowered herself slowly to the railing. She tried to close her eyes against the wobbling feeling, not just in her eyes but her muscles too. She pushed back up and lowered herself again. As she moved the porchlight caught something shining in the grass. Carol pushed up trying to keep her eyes on it. She set herself on her feet again and walked the couple steps down to Maria's lawn. There in the grass, glinting, was Yon's ring. She picked it up as if it might burn her. Holding it in her hand, feeling the heat of the day still trapped in the metal, made it all feel real.

 

She had had her doubts once he was gone. If Monica hadn't seen him, if she hadn't taken to drawing black and green motorcycles to hang on Carol's fridge, Carol might have thought it was a hallucination. She sat on the step turning the piece of gold around and around in her hand. What kind of woman had she been? Who could have left someone like Yon? She couldn't picture giving him up once you had him. She curled her toes in the cold grass, her body remembering the weight of him, the feeling of him moving above her. The dirty wonderful things he had whispered to her as they lay in bed afterward, his hands moving over her. Taking his time to learn her body. She shivered despite the heat.

 

"Is this a bad time, Ace?" Lawson's voice cut through the night. Carol closed her hand around the ring. She didn't want to talk to Lawson right now, but it beat rocking on the porch longing for a pair of hands that weren't her own.

 

"Has that stopped you before?" Carol asked. She wondered if the reason they only ever played twenty questions was that her brain didn't know what Lawson's answers would be.

 

"We keep going round and round in circles, where do you think it is all leading?" Right on cue, they fell to questions again.

 

"Knowing my luck, the mental ward at the Army hospital." Lawson laughed. She seemed so real but Carol couldn't bring herself to reach out and touch her. Whatever the result it would be upsetting.

 

"I am worried about you," Lawson said tucking her hands in her pockets and leaning in to look at Carol. "You don't seem yourself. This doesn't seem like you."

 

"I have a head injury and I keep seeing people who aren't real. Makes you weird." Carol raised her eyebrows at Lawson. Lawson turned her back to her to look at the sky.

 

"Maybe I am the only one that is real? Ask yourself, Ace, do you feel real?" Carol looked up at the stars and considered Lawson's question. She didn't know if she felt real, but what else could the answer be? Lawson looked back over her shoulder, "what do you think? Do you miss it up there?"

 

"The sky?" Carol asked craning her head back so she could look past the awning of the porch.

 

"No, the stars," Carol could feel Lawson's smile as she looked above her. She opened her mouth to answer, to ask more questions when she heard the thump of a motorcycle engine and Lawson was gone.

 

* * *

 

"Are you sleeping in here?" Minn-Erva's cold voice interrupted his meditation. As he came back into himself he felt the stiffness in his back and the numbness in his legs. He was kneeling on the floor, palms upwards. On the medical bench above him the Terran was literally hovering an inch off the padding. Her body was blue fire.

 

"I am monitoring the situation," Yon-Rogg straightened slowly willing the tower of static his body had become to hold his weight. Minn-Erva only spoke to him like this when they were in private.

 

"You are meditating in the blast zone," she corrected him. She was hovering by the door, ready should the Terran ignite to seal the door between them and hide from the blast. Yon-Rogg briefly entertained the thought she was jealous, but he dismissed it. Their unspoken courtship of each other was not a passionate match. It was the gravitational pull of two families' expectations locking them in orbit. Neither pulled together nor repulsed.

 

"If you are only going to criticize, you can leave me," he was leaning over the Terran searching for signs of change. She was currently suspended in the Supremor. He was awaiting instructions. He didn't glance at Minn-Erva but he felt her eyes on him. "What?"

 

"You know what the Supremor will say. And I think you should reconsider." Minn-Erva kept her face blank, but as Yon-Rogg glanced up at her he watched her thumb swipe and her trigger finger twitch. It was a small gesture, tucked close to her side but he knew it as intimately as he knew her. She was scared. Something was making her hesitate. He set his shoulders.

 

"I do not pretend to predict the Supremor. Nor would I question their decision." He found his hand reaching for the Terran's, it was dangerously close to falling off the table. He wanted to right it. He stopped himself. A small part of him cared she was comfortable and he didn't know why.

 

"Then will you let me fulfill that duty?" Minn's eyes were downcast. Her voice was low and thick. Yon-Rogg felt like he was betraying her somehow, but he did not know how to stop himself.

 

"Why would you?" He could hear the softness in his own voice. It was foreign when he spoke to her, they did not do gentleness. He thought perhaps he wanted to hear her say the words aloud.

 

"There is nothing that says it must be a man," Minn defiantly set her jaw. There wasn't really a reason, other than Yon-Rogg wanted to hold the raw power that was glowing from the Terran. He wanted to craft a warrior from the Starfire.

 

"It should be the Commander. This is not something that can be asked of a subordinate," it was the truth Yon-Rogg lied to himself.

 

"My blood is as good as a commander's," Minn's voice was growing tense. The small twitch of her fingers more pronounced. She was a good soldier and though she tried to hide it, a good friend. He wished she could be honest about why she wanted to keep him from giving his blood to the Terran. It was true there would be implications socially of such a bond. He would become her protector. That did not mean he would not be free to live his life as his family had planned.

 

"Your commander is not as good a medic, I would need you Minn-Erva if that is what the Supremor decides." It was also true, he would need her. He couldn't provide the care Minn would need once the process of blood giving began. He could stop death. That wasn't the same as preserving life.

 

"You would have me be the one to give your blood to another?" Her tone made a stone form in his stomach. He knew they had understood each other all these years, hadn't they?

 

"If it was on the order of The Supremor I would even have you spill it on the floor. We do not serve to question. We have with us the pieces to make an unstoppable weapon." He spoke with conviction willing her to understand this was bigger than their friendship.

 

"My father will not accept you if you have given blood to another woman." She couldn't look at him and he couldn't look at her. Ice ran through his veins. This was the moment when all must be said or forever left unsaid.

 

"I don't know what you are talking about." He tucked the burning hand of the Terran back to her side and turned to return to his meditation. Minn-Erva only inclined her head before she left the room.

 

* * *

 

Ni-Er breathed against the pain. She knew it wasn't supposed to hurt. Nausea maybe or discomfort, but she knew the pain was a sign of her own instability. There was a flaw in her anatomy and she knew it. It ate at her, but she had never spoken of it to anyone. She was worried that imperfection would lead to her being discarded.

 

In the white endless expanse, a woman waited for her. She was small with pink translucent skin. Beneath it, Ni-Er could see an endless web of blue veins and capillaries. She had always wondered if when she was naked you could see the dark tangle of her innards. Dr. Behr-Alt. Brilliant geneticist. There was a time when Ni-Er had loved her deeply, but now she only appeared before her because in the damaged spongey mass that was Ni-Er's brain Dr. Behr-Alt was the only other person to be found. Her commander, her mentor, her mother. That was before Ni-Er learned the consequences of inadequacy for her mother's children.

 

Now she served the Supremor. An orphan to the service, adrift from one mission to the other. Never stopping, never settling until at last her unstable biology collapsed.

 

She had not been looking forward to this meeting. She had failed. She could not tell her Master it had been doomed from the start; her face, the space she occupied in the Commander's past, her skills at persuasion were the reason she had been selected as his keeper. To fail was to say those things that recommended her were inadequate.

 

She knelt before the simulation of Behr-Alt.

 

"You look prepared for penance," her mother's throaty voice observed.

 

"You have every right to be displeased with me, Supreme Intelligence. I have been unsuccessful in swaying The Deserter." Ni-Er kept her head bowed. She spoke to her knees it was preferable to staring into Behr-Alt's large, wet eyes.

 

"I would have been more shocked if you succeeded," her tone was calm but cold. "It was a worthy effort, I always give my children the opportunity to return to me. They don't have to accept it."

 

"He performed Khun Zan Uil as you predicted." Ni-Er didn't know why she was defending him.

 

"Commander Yon-Rogg has tried to separate the Kree from me, he wishes to view us as separate halves of a whole. He doesn't understand that if the Kree are the fruit I am the skin. To peel me away would cause you to wither and rot. I protect you from your own fragility."

 

"I know, Supremor." Ni-Er bowed her body forward, pressing her hands to the glowing floor of the simulation. She tried not to think of how fragile she was lest the Supremor think to look inside her and find the rotting core.

 

"Rise, Ni-Er, singular among all my children. You survived where your brothers and sisters died. I would not have you feel inadequate. You must be strong to continue to serve me."

 

"Tell me what I must do next," Ni-Er rose to her feet.

 

"You must send the Commander to the place in the galaxy that is furthest from the light and join me to stand watch over the weapon."

 

Ni-Er bowed her head before being released into the oblivion that was leaving the simulation. She could think of only one place suitable for the Deserter, one place where failures and mistakes were cast away to.  
Nefros.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As some of you know I am on tumblr (leightoningstrike) and I reposted this really interesting thing about commenting (OP: tsunderesasuke)  
> I have been thinking about it lots so I wanted to take a moment to say thank you to everyone who has been commenting because I know sometimes it's really hard to express something or to put your thoughts out there. And the fact people were willing to share their theories and their support means a lot. ESPECIALLY people who live review in my tumblr DMs and comment. The effort astounds me and I am so full of love.
> 
> Being on here is addicting and receiving support is so energizing. Seeing a familiar name in the comments section makes me warm and happy because I know someone has come back and seeing a new name is like cocaine. It makes me want to write 1000 chapters. I want to know what you like, what you feel, what surprised you. I really want to share this with people. 
> 
> And to all the fics I never properly commented on I am going to start being a more vocal reader because now I understand receiving someone's support is the best feeling.
> 
> Anyway... Blah blah blah love love love DH


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ain't no party like a fan fic party!  
> I don't know about you guys but when this is all over I am gonna eat some vegetables and sleep for 100 years. And also watch John Wick with Danni. Priorities.

Carol froze on her steps. She had been waiting to hear that sound for what felt like days, but now it came just in time to interrupt whatever it was Lawson wanted her to know. Her visits were becoming fewer and far between, Carol thought it must be a sign she was recovering, that she would be better soon. Except for the thought, she would never see Lawson again filled her with dread. She wanted to know why no one else admitted to knowing Lawson. She wanted to know what it was about their work that made the government leave her in purgatory instead of drawing attention to the crash by having a court-martial. More than anything she wanted to know who it was they were supposed to save that day. Whose lives had been at risk?

 

The single headlight turned down the driveway, the thud of the motor making her knees clench as she thought of the man who was coming to see her. The motor cut halfway down the dirt path and she heard the sounds of someone moving through the brush to her. She stayed where she was. He emerged from the treeline. She blinked her eyes so he came into focus. The lights from the road made a halo around him. He was all wonderful angles and graceful steps. Her heart clenched as she realized how much she had missed him.

 

"Hey," he said as he saw her on the steps. Carol leaned forward and put her chin in her hand.

 

"Hey," she fought the smile she felt growing when she saw him. He looked at her like he might laugh but he swallowed it. "Did you miss me?"

 

"Yes, yes I did," he said looking at his hands as if he couldn't believe he was admitting it. Carol held up his ring.

 

"You forgot this," she offered it to him. He took it in his hand.

 

"I meant it when I said you could keep it." He rolled the ring along his palm, a familiar practiced action.

 

"It's not really my style," she answered him, and he looked up at her.

 

"Marriage, you mean?" He looked at her seriously.

 

"I've never seen it work out for anyone," she said trying to smile at him. She thought about her mom and dad. Maria. Now Yon standing in front of her. He nodded considering her words.

 

He put the ring in his pocket. Carol stood up. She didn't know if she should invite him into her trailer or stay outside.

 

"Are you going to invite me in?" He asked as if he read her mind, his eyes followed her body from the soles of her feet to her eyes eventually looking behind her to the trailer door.

 

"Maybe I am just worried you will shine that light in my eyes again." She smiled at him walking across the deck. He followed up the steps. She stopped and he nearly bumped into her. She looked over her shoulder. "Just so you know, it's really hot in there."

 

"I don't mind," he whispered back to her, his two fingers brushing up her spine making her want to shiver. She gripped the door harder. They really should talk.

 

She pulled the door open and the heat immediately seeped from the trailer. She walked inside and he followed close behind her. She made her way to the kitchen

 

"Home sweet home. I don't really have anything to offer you," she looked over her shoulder. He had been in here briefly before, but now in the darkness and the heat, it felt transformed. Lawson's words had not quite left her. What if none of this was real? What did that mean?

 

He caught her by the waist, her body already growing slick with sweat, he was curled around her. He caught her shoulder with his teeth before turning her to face him. He walked with his arms around her, forcing her to walk backward with him. She laughed as he ducked his head stealing kisses from her.

 

"I only came here for you," he growled at her. She wanted him so badly, he felt so familiar to her. Like she had been loved by him in another life.

 

He lunged for her, catching her more firmly around the waist. He picked her up and set her on the counter. Her eyes were wide as he set her firmly down, the kitchen around them painted blue by the light of the moon. He stepped away from her so he could strip off his shirt. His skin was humid with the night air, and he was so well built. Even the soft light of the moon cut crisp dark shadows over his muscles. Carol reached an appreciative hand out to him. He stepped into her, his hand on her shoulder, thumb caressing the top of her collar bone. He lifted one finger up, her eyes instinctively went to it.

 

"Humour me," he whispered to her moving his finger slowly across her vision. She followed it her breathing heavy with the intimacy of his attention.

 

"Is this why people like playing doctor so much?" She quirked her eyebrows at him. His finger moved low and her eyes followed, her attention turned to his torso, reveling in the lines of his body. She realized his finger had stopped and he was staring at her.

 

"Stay there Danvers," he instructed his voice heavy. He went to her fridge. He paused squinting at the drawing taped to it.

 

"Monica likes your motorcycle," Carol answered, watching him nod appreciatively.

 

"Good luck keeping her on the ground once she grows up," he flashed a smile as he pulled open the freezer. Carol swallowed against a well of emotion. Something about the thought of Monica growing up made her throat catch.

 

"Don't you know it's rude to go through people's things without asking?" She distracted herself.

 

"Are you hiding many secrets in your icebox?" Yon asked pulling out a tray of ice. He cracked it as he walked back to her. She felt a quiver of anticipation about what he was going to do. He set it on the counter beside her. He plucked an ice cube from the tray, stepping between her legs. He ran the ice over her sweating skin, the heat coming off them so warm that water immediately began running from his fingers, slipping in cold rivulets down her body beneath the edge of her tank top. She hissed as the wonderful cold made its way across her collar bones, dipping between her breasts for a moment. Yon held the mostly melted ice cube up to her lips.

 

"Hold this for me," he whispered and she opened her mouth to him. The ice was cold and wet with a hint of salt from their skin intermingled, she sucked it greedily.

 

He took another piece in his hand as he leaned forward. He cupped the back of her neck and pulled her mouth against his. He sucked at the wetness as Carol tried to swallow the melting ice water and navigate the hot invasion of his tongue. As he kissed her his free hand pushed the ice into the arch of her foot. She gasped and he swallowed the sound. Carol no longer felt she was melting from the heat but the onslaught against her senses had her clinging to him, her muscles shaking. He slipped the ice behind her knee, water tracing the lines of her body. His mouth never left hers, the ice already swallowed but he stole the cold from her tongue, drinking her in. He continued to move his palm until he traveled her thighs, ending up pressed to the small of her back.

 

She reached blindly for the tray until her fingers closed around her own piece. She ran it over his spine enjoying the way he hissed into her mouth, his body arching further into hers. As she reached his lower back she brought it around to his stomach, she circled his taut navel as his mouth moved to her neck, biting her ear.

 

"I am going to lick every drop of water off you," he groaned in her ear. Before she could offer to return the favour he dragged her across the counter, throwing her over his shoulder he carried her towards the mattress.

 

* * *

 

Talos' small ship hung in the emptiness of the Pama star system. He was still far out from the planet he thought he would never even come near. Hala hung like a cloudy blue pearl far far away from him. This was as close as he dared come. He had hacked into the shipping feeds and was watching the comings and goings of the atmo-ports.

 

He didn't know what he hoped to achieve by putting himself in the path of discovery. He should have returned home after Zendinar. Instead, he found he was keying in a destination just outside of Hala's defenses. He hadn't told his wife that Carol was in danger yet. She was in a delicate condition. Like Carol and the Kree, Talos had begun to grow his line. If he had to tell Soren the truth and watch the heartbreak radiate from her, he didn't know how he would stop himself from charging into the unknown to bring Carol back to them. Curse the Kree's short-sightedness.

 

Talos was watching the endless scroll of port data. It was so monotonous he almost missed the significance of what he was seeing. A ship whose manifest said medical supplies making a short trip from the surface of Hala. Just under four hundred thousand clicks. While he had assumed she was on Hala and he would have no way of reaching her it was very possible that instead, they had hidden her. What better place than their own orbit?

 

* * *

 

The decision of the Supremor had been what they expected. Blood transfusion to stabilize the cells. Yon remembered he had retreated to his quarters when he heard his orders. He had paced at first, his body no longer capable of meditation. When that had not been enough he had pushed his body. Made himself sweat. He had told Minn-Erva he would give the Terran his blood when the Supremor instructed. According to their ethos, it had to be offered. He had to willingly part with it. He had to when the vein was opened, be ready to accept the Terran as his responsibility. The power, the resilience of her flesh, the way she had stared him down. He wanted it, but could he be enough? He didn't know.

 

What he did know was he and Minn were alone and they were running out of time. What he knew was Minn-Erva wanted something different than he did. He had to be enough. He would not just be molding her, but tempering himself.

 

When he returned to med bay Minn-Erva was there. She had stripped to the waist her undershield loosened at the arms. She was readying a tray next to the Terran.

 

"What are you doing?" He demanded. Rage spiked through him. More rage than he normally allowed himself.

 

"The Supremor told you that blood must be given. I am giving blood," Minn didn't look at him, her hands kept moving.

 

"I told you I would be the one," he bit out the words. How could she defile what she was about to do by giving jealous blood?

 

"I don't think you are making a clear decision, Commander." Her voice dripped with ice. He knew this would mean the alliance between their families would never happen, but what was one lineage one limb of a massive tree compared to the glory of all of the Kree?

 

"I could say the same about you," he began pulling at the clasps of his armour. Stripping it with practiced efficiency. For the first time in their service together Minn looked directly at him as he undressed. Her eyes were full of challenge. He wondered if on this two-man crew there was about to be mutiny. He exposed his arm to her. She looked away from him.

 

"Take my blood. Give it to the Terran. That is your order, defy me and you will stand before the Supreme Intelligence," Yon-Rogg spoke with thundering authority. Minn-Erva set her shoulders and plunged the needle into his arm.

 

The memories crowded in on Yon-Rogg as he moved through the infantry class ship. He couldn't shake Ni-Er's proposition from his skin. How could she think that he would cast aside his wife when offered another? How could she have nursed them both through the pain of transfusion and doubt their bond? What game was she playing?

 

He couldn't be still. He was being hounded by his memories; the distance between them and the uncertainty ahead ate at his insides like an ulcer. He wanted to kill something. He wanted to strangle the life out of an enemy. He wanted to watch another city burn. Anything to exorcise the cell shattering pain from his body.

 

The light of his comm began to blink. He thought it would be Ni-Er. He was ready to strike down his masters.

 

Instead, all it was was a single line from a C 53 poem. Something strange Vers had taught the Skrull children to chant with mind-boggling repetition until it drove both the Skrull and him mad. They had retreated together to the silence of the reflecting pond. They hadn't spoken only stared into the water and enjoyed the silence.

The comm blinked; _Ring around the rosy/ pocket full of posies/ ashes, ashes/ they all fall down_.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Brain FOUGHT me on this the whole way. So please let me know if the struggle was worth it with your internet love.
> 
> There is a new Yonvers author on this ship. And I hope everyone still chugging along with this fic has taken a second to give them some much-deserved love! I am sure you have, but just in case they slid under your radar please see the link below.  
> [ **When the Dust Settles**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18867667) by [**Taekmyhaert**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taekmyhaert)
> 
> As always your comments and kudos keep me going through the brain fist fights.  
> Love Love Love DH

The message wavered and then disappeared almost as if it had never existed. Yon-Rogg instinctively flicked his wrist as if that might make the message reappear. There was nothing. He felt his frustration mount; he could not stay as he was, his chip was starting to burn. He knew the SI would be made aware he had become emotional, but he had no way to find calm as his anger and confusion grew. Being free to wander the ship now they were traveling back to Hala he took off in the direction of the training room.

 

Yon-Rogg found solace in pushing his body, repeating the same forms over and over. He was trying to force calm between the very cells of his body, to compress the anger so deep into his core nothing could ever lift it. He thought back to the message. Was the Skrull mocking him? Was he rubbing salt in the wound? Yon-Rogg felt the spark of the regulator but he pushed through it. The Skrull couldn't have known what he had felt watching Carol join hands with the children on New Skrullos. He couldn't have seen through Yon-Rogg's practiced mask to how deep he felt the desire for peace.

 

Yon-Rogg had wanted nothing more than Carol to stop throwing herself into every problem, spreading her energy and love so thin she had nothing left for herself. He had cursed them with his foolish desires. Now Carol was trapped by the SI and Yon-Rogg was indentured to the murderous whims of his People's true leader.

 

The repetition of forms was a familiar route to meditation, he had fallen into it whenever peace eluded him. His skill on the battlefield was a testament not to his dedication, but his own restlessness. An unseen truth about himself, until Vers. Vers had seen through him, she had rattled the cage. She had made him want to give in to the oblivion on the other side of his training. To step off the edge of the rigid control he imposed on his life and into the chaos his ethos kept at bay.

 

He heard the door woosh, but he did not turn to look at who had joined him. He was not the commander of this ship, he was not granted the same solitude as he once was. He focused on one rivet in the wall in front of him. He would be blind to everything else short of an attack. He felt eyes on him for a very long time. He wondered when they would finally speak.

 

"Are you happy here, Commander?" Ni-Er sounded worn out. In a distant way, Yon-Rogg wondered what had hurt his friend. He didn't answer her. She knew. She must know. He would not even look at her.

 

"It makes me sick to see how much the Supremor has returned to you with so little gratitude," her voice was definitely shaking. No unlikely display of emotion would make him turn. She was wasting her energy. "You have received your life back. You could go back to the moment 10 years ago before the core was destroyed. You could pretend you never knew her."

 

"How could I do that when she is in my very veins when together we have created a power that will outstrip any force in the galaxy?" Yon-Rogg made a liar of himself by turning to her. Ni-Er was pale, a fine bead of sweat gathering along her brow. He thought for one moment he could see her pulse throb through her skin. She was looking at him with unbridled disgust.

 

"You believe your spawn is even viable outside the womb? You have been gone for months Commander what do you know of the Terran's condition?"

 

"I know as I stand here that she is alive. I know, beyond that, our bodies are strong. That survival was in her DNA even on C 53. You may think you hold the chains, but there will come a time when they burn you."

 

"I wonder, Commander, which you would feel the loss of more; the Terran or your half breed."

 

"What has become of you that you would consider us piecemeal? As things that could be separated from each other?" She must have turned off his chip again, the rage he felt at her suggestion should be burning him alive.

 

"I only want to know how I can most efficiently break you," Ni-Er answered. She came closer to him, falling into a sparring stance. Yon-Rogg realized she meant to challenge him in hand to hand combat without the protection of the chip. She was a fool.

 

"Assuming you could, would be your first mistake," Yon-Rogg should resist. He should behave. He should supplicate himself in front of his old friend and beg her aid. He would do none of these things, watching the sweat pour off her translucent skin he realized at this moment he could kill her.

 

They fell into each other. His body was tired from the rigors he put it through, but facing an opponent breathed new life into his muscles. Especially one who spoke so callously of rending his family apart. Ni-Er despite her diminished state was fighting just as fiercely. He still failed to see the stakes for her. Four years had passed since Torfa when things had fallen apart when he and Carol had left. Why rage against their desertion? or was it their return that rankled her? They would be gone again as soon as they could. If she would just stop meddling.

 

He knew her too well. He could sense her attacks before they came, even her new techniques had been filtered through their past. He might as well have been learning beside her these four years. She was growing frustrated, he could see her pulse raggedly hammering at her neck. What end was there to be had? Did he concede or did he kill her? What would be the consequences of each?

 

She failed to block him and a blow landed across her jaw. Her lip split like ripe fruit and blue dripped down her chin. Yon-Rogg hesitated, falling back letting his instincts tell him what to do next. So he could see what the sight of Kree blood awoke in him. Ni-Er stuttered. the back of her hand came up to her lip. She smeared the blood away and looked at it near black against her blue flesh.

 

"Guards," she called into her comm. Her voice cracked with anger. Footsteps stormed immediately. Had they been waiting outside?

 

They rushed in pistols drawn. Yon-Rogg raised his hands above his head, knuckles stained blue with his Keeper's blood. They forced him to his knees and Yon-Rogg didn't resist.

 

"Lock him up," Ni-Er commanded refusing to look at him

 

* * *

 

Carol woke up feeling like she couldn't breathe. There was a pain in her gut, pushing up against her ribs. She rolled onto her side her hands pressing into the pain hoping it would release. She tried to keep her sobs stifled. She knew somewhere in the sheets Yon was sleeping. The trailer was still warm but the earliness of the hour made it manageable. She wondered if this was what liver failure felt like. She panted through the pain pushing away the thought. If it had taken twelve years to pickle Joe Danvers it would take more than a dozen weeks to kill his daughter. She forced herself to sit up. She felt the pain move like a bulge in her stomach. Her hands felt nothing, but it flopped like a fish as she rolled upright. She leaned forward panting through her teeth until it settled. She felt cold and shaky as she made her way to the fridge. She didn't know what she wanted or if there was anything in there, but there was something comforting about being able to stare into the dim yellow-lit interior.

 

"You know that's not normal, right Chickadee?" Joe Danvers was leaning against the counter next to the fridge.

 

"Neither is seeing you," Carol grit through her teeth. She just wanted some peace, she wanted the pain in her gut to ease so she could go back to bed. It should feel like a novelty sharing the mattress with someone else, but Yon slept so soundly beside her it was like he belonged.

 

"You think a beer would help?" He asked nodding to the fridge.

 

"Whose side are you on?" Her voice was low the heel of her hand digging into the pain in her gut. "Now go away before you wake him up."

 

"He won't wake him up until you want him to." Joe Danvers leaned so he could see the mattress from the kitchen. "Who is he anyway?"

 

"What do you mean who is he?" Carol tried to open the fridge as quietly as possible, keep the door mostly closed so the light wouldn't come on. She hated herself for caving but she told herself she needed it for the pain. She was close enough to smell her father's aftershave. It did nothing to ease the rising panic in her as her fingers closed around the neck of a bottle.

 

"Do you even know who he is? Or do you just feel like you know him?"

 

"You don't get to show up in my kitchen at 3 AM and judge who I am sleeping with." Carol removed the cap as quietly as possible, watching Yon's sleeping form out of the corner of her eye.

 

"I just think you aren't asking enough questions," Joe Danvers held up his hands defensively. Carol took a long drink of the cold beer. The pain in her gut eased.

 

"Why don't I start by asking what the hell you're doing here?" She pointed an accusatory finger at her father. There was a sound from the bed.

 

Both of them whipped their heads to look at the noise, Carol curled the hand that held the beer into her chest. When she looked back at her father he was gone.

* * *

 

The fueling station was abandoned. It was stationed on a small planet on the edge of the Helgentar system. Yon-Rogg had not wanted to land for fear that a small planet would mean they would be more likely to be noticed. As humanoids in a reptilian dominant system, they would be at the very least noticeable and they were too close to the Kree. Vers had vehemently agreed while running through the landing protocol and entering the atmosphere.

 

Yon-Rogg's caution had been misplaced, it seemed they were the only two people on the planet. This had raised even more alarm for Yon-Rogg because it didn't make sense to abandon a whole planet. Vers had done a quick air scan before descending the gangplank and walking into the abandoned building. Yon-Rogg had followed his eyes flicking momentarily to the ceiling sending a prayer to the ancestors they wouldn't have to fight their way out of this one. He caught up to Vers as she was hardwiring her comm into the data panel.

 

"What have you found?" Yon-Rogg asked his eyes sweeping the room they were in. It was the central weighing station. Everything looked like it had been left as it was the day the station was abandoned.

 

"Nothing interesting," Vers eyes moved over the scrolling records. "Seems like a standard decommission. The station didn't have enough stock on hand to justify the expense of off-siting the materials. We should be able to refuel and take some ration packs."

 

Vers had unhooked from the panel, leaving the wires hanging and begun walking from room to room. Yon-Rogg followed, his pistol at the ready. Every once in awhile Vers would glance back and roll her eyes at him. The place was more well-stocked than they imagined, the station had six rooms total; the weigh station, the facilities, two crew quarters, two storerooms.

 

"I think we should stay here," Vers said her eyes looking around the storeroom as if it were a palace. Compared to their small ship it was.

 

"We should refuel and keep moving," Yon-Rogg responded. He could see in every room a thin layer of filth.

 

"To where? We have no plan. It's been weeks. We'll kill each other if we don't get space soon." She was pleading with him. He could see the desire to stay burning in her. He couldn't say no to her.

 

The truth was that it had been harder to resist Vers now they were free from Starforce. When he had been her commander there had been a sense of duty to a power higher than themselves. Now she was the higher power. He constantly was at war with his base nature and with her desire to throw herself into every catastrophe they had come across. He wanted to protect her from herself and from him. The tension inside had turned him into a pacing, snarling beast. The small ship had become a cage where any time they were in a room together Vers had been left no other option but to retreat from him. Now with a larger space they at least could be away from each other.

 

"Fine, but don't get comfortable. The first sign of trouble and we are out of here."

 

Space would be good he told himself as the clawing feeling reached up from his stomach and dragged its nail down his ribs. Staying here meant giving up control. He had been trying to incrementally release his hold on her life. This left Yon-Rogg torn between the pent up storm of desire and the gnawing emptiness of being away from her. He had tried to alleviate the pressure in his chest by admitting his sins. He had only just begun to give up on the idea they could return to Hala. He felt adrift without the Supremor, without Starforce, without a sense of purpose beyond staying close to Vers. It made him fixate on protecting her. He was clinging to her for his purpose and she was struggling against the tighter and tighter bonds he was trying to put her in.

Reprieve from the claustrophobic ship was a good idea.

What they hadn't realized was how cold it would get at night. There had been no indication during the day, but as the tiny planet turned away from the sun a cold unlike anything they had been prepared for crept as slowly as the darkness towards the station. Their suits could not help them, they maintained internal temperature. They could not warm you up or cool you down. The station, decrepit and out of use could not be easily coaxed to heating itself.

 

He found Vers wrapped in the blanket from her bed, wired into the panel trying to reason with the internal systems. Yon-Rogg too was wrapped in his blanket. He had gone in search of her, forcing his body to move through the cold metal structure.

 

"Das't," Vers muttered, slamming her palm against the panel in frustration. Her jaw so tight with bracing against the cold the word is barely formed.

 

"Langauge, Vers," he admonished from the doorway. She turned to look at him, she was quaking and her lips were a thin blue line.

 

"I figured out why they left this place," she grumbled turning back to her comm and the misbehaving stream of data. "The power cells wouldn't be enough to maintain the heat at night. They were probably burning more fuel than they were selling."

 

He moved closer to her across the room. His own body shivering with cold. They could return to the ship he thought, but his body protested the idea of risking more exposure. When he reached her he opened his blanket and held it awkwardly over her shoulders, so his body was wrapped over her back, pillowed by her own blanket and sheltered by his.

 

"Have we found the one thing your powers can't fix," he teased her, feeling her tense in his embrace. He had warned her during training that there were limits. That she would have to survive without them.

 

"Not when I am above a massive fuel tank," she grit through her teeth, trying to stop them chattering. "Plus then only I would be warm. That doesn't solve the problem."

 

She spared a glance over her shoulder. Yon-Rogg felt his stomach drop slightly. She was worried about him. Against the cold, a small tingle of heat bloomed in his spine. He never knew what Vers felt for him. Theirs was only a half bond. As uncommon and unlikely as a moragu fruit growing in a perfect half so one could see the seeds and the flesh. He felt constantly exposed, starving for any sign she might accept him.

 

"Leave it Vers. Tonight we will have to survive in the way of our ancestors."

 

"Your ancestors," she corrected, the shivering making her voice harsh. She began removing the connecting wires with stiff fingers.

 

"I guarantee the people of C 53 discovered this method as well," he said his voice tight. He was grateful the cold was keeping the thrill of excitement his body felt being near her at bay.

 

The crew quarters are small. Out of habit, she had given him the single room. He shuffled them there now. When they were standing beside his bed he forced himself to shake the blanket from his shoulders and spread it over the thin mattress. He took her's as well, prying it from her hands and laying it over his bed. He slid in first so his back would be to the cold metal wall. The mattress held no heat and he shivered as the cold sheets whispered over him. She stood for a moment arms wrapped around her body, legs shifting against themselves.

 

"Vers, get in," he commanded. His voice was harsh and his gut felt like a tightly coiled spring. It was only as Vers hesitantly lifted the covers that it occurred to him he had never shared a bed with a woman before. He had been in the barracks with them, but never beneath the same blanket, sharing the same air. She stayed at the edge of the bed, stubbornly not understanding his intentions.

 

He pulled the blankets over their head so they were engulfed in the cold sheets and darkness. He was aware of Vers' breathing. The way it shuddered. He reached for her, looping his arm around her waist and dragging her against him. She was a block of ice. Yon-Rogg tried to control his shaking as one hand fumbled for the knot in her shirt. He began working at it one-handed, Vers was still like a prey animal.

 

"What are you doing?" She breathed.

 

"Are you too cold to remember your basic survival training or are you being intentionally stubborn?" He grit out against the knot. It came free in his hands. His hand slid down her side, catching the smallest sliver of skin. Vers was breathing heavily, he could feel how tight her body was clenched, the subtle rocking of her hips against some unseen pressure. He bit his tongue, willing his mind to fight the clouding desire that was whispering to his blood; touch her, mate her, mark her. This was about survival. He snapped the clasp of her pants open before he forced himself to roll away. He just wanted her to be warm. It would be more efficient skin to skin.

 

His hands fell to his own clothes, pulling them off and kicking them to the bottom of the bed. He left only his innermost layer. The cold was torture. He could feel Vers squirming beside him, feel her legs kicking the knot of clothes to the bottom of the bed. Once she stilled he pulled her against him once more. Her skin was ice, but the feeling of rightness, of belonging, overwhelmed him. She hissed against the cold of his own body.

 

"I think basic lied to you," she laughed shakily. Her hand reached back and gripped the thick muscle of his naked thigh. Instinctively Yon-Rogg kicked away from her frozen skin. He grabbed both her wrists pulling them against her chest, crushing her body against him.

 

"Patience, Vers" he growled in her ear and he swore he felt her shiver, her hips instinctively rolling into him. If she felt the growing effect she had on him she didn't say. Instead, she slipped her feet between his legs pushing the cold tops of her feet into his calves. He instinctively curled inwards, locking their bodies tight against each other, every inch of skin touching.

 

"Perseverance, Yon," she mimicked his own tone back to him, he could feel her laughter shake her. He allowed himself a small smile and the slightest exhale. It breezed over her shoulder, causing goosebumps. The world felt very far away under the canopy of sheets, their bodies pressed together.

 

As her laughter faded and silence reigned he thought she might be able to sleep. He knew sleep would elude him as long as she was so close to him. He relaxed his hold on her wrists, easing his body so she could rest more comfortably. He could feel the rise and fall of her breath in his chest and against his arms. Even when they sparred he had never held her so thoroughly. He wanted to explore her further, but he knew that would be one trespass too far. He tried to find his focus to fall into his meditation.

 

"Yon?" Her voice was quiet, did she possibly think he could sleep when she was so close? He made a small sound to indicate he was listening.

 

"Did you mean what you said? That giving your blood was-" she let the sentence hang. He knew what she struggled with. How did you articulate what was between them?

 

"Kree blood is incredibly potent. Despite its power to heal and give strength, we do not share it. When we do it is to form a bond between the two. A sacred promise that transcends laws and paper. A bond that lives in our cells."

 

"Then why did the Supremor allow you to give your blood to me?"

 

"There are only so many things that can be quantified, proven with empirical evidence. The Supremor knew it would save your body to mutate your cells. They even accepted on a psychological level it would form a bond between us. It never allowed for what it would make me feel to share my blood with you."

 

It was easier to speak like this, her facing away from him, the outside muffled, the air heated slowly by their bodies.

 

"And what do you feel?"

 

"Like you are mine." He had said the words before, but in the small expanse of bed, he felt like she finally heard them. His heart was thudding now. She must feel it as intimately as he felt her. He tightened his arms around her, an instinctive reach for comfort. "What do you feel?"

 

Vers was silent for a moment. Feeling foolish Yon-Rogg began to release her. Her hands caught his wrists holding his arms in place around her. He could feel every throb and breath of her body.

 

"I feel safe."

 

* * *

 

If this was a dream Yon-Rogg didn't want to wake up. He was in their old base in Helgentar, their brief refuge from their flight across the galaxies. The place where he first revealed the weight of his sins, spoke the contents of his heart and bedded his mate. It was, despite its lack of beauty, a place of incredible importance to him. He was there again. His wife was pressed against him. A solid weight in his arms. Grounding him, centering him. He thought he would never hold her again and he felt it would destroy him to let go now.

 

Except she was already fading. He was becoming aware of two selves. In his dream on his side wrapped around his wife and his heavy aching body on its back a weight on his chest. Someone was sitting on his chest. Their knees digging into his shoulders. He blinked his eyes the base dissolving around him.

 

"What are you doing here?" He asked, not moving his arms but trying to roll his shoulders against the weight. His voice was being crushed down in his chest by the body sitting on him.

 

"My quarters have proved too easy for you to escape. I figured a turn in the cells would give us time to truly talk," Ni-Er responded, digging her knees slightly into his shoulders.

 

"Are you going to tell me when you lost your mind?" She was strong, she had him at a disadvantage, but he was stronger.

 

"When will you accept I am not who you think I am?"

 

Yon-Rogg forced his body upwards knocking Ni-Er back along the bed so she was lying on his legs her legs on either side of his chest. She looked up at him pliant and supplicant through her lashes. She was right. She wasn't Minn-Erva. She never had been.

 

"Tell me who you are," he couldn't bear to look at her, the dream of his wife still close against his skin. He wanted to bash her brains into the metal of the bed frame for disturbing him.

 

Ni-Er righted herself and sat on the bed, her back against the small metal footboard.

 

"I am Ni-Er. I am the thirty-seventh daughter of Behr-Alt. My sister cells were harvested from the one you call Minn-Erva during her medical exam prior to entering Starforce. I have never met her, though the Supremor has assured me the likeness is near perfect." She recited her history calmly and without emotion.

 

Yon-Rogg felt cold shock grip him. There had always been whispers that Starforce was trying to perfect cloning. That the SI hoped to create an even more obedient, ruthless force. If Ni-Er was any indication of their earlier models then they must be achieving even greater results now that time had passed. She looked better than she had when they sparred, her skin no longer pallid and sweating. The place where he had split her lip was still swollen and scabbed. Obviously accelerated healing was not perfected in her genes.

 

"Does the Supremor think I am so weak that I could be seduced by a familiar face? Why do you follow their orders down such a dishonorable path."

 

"It is no more dishonorable than to open a vein to a Terran. You created a mutated half breed to please the Supremor. I am sure you did it with as little hesitation as I offered myself to you." Ni-Er's voice dripped with resentment.

 

Yon-Rogg dug his hands into the sheets. He wanted to deny her, to say she had him wrong, but she was right. He had had little hesitation when the SI had given him instructions. He would have mated himself to Minn-Erva if they had pressed even slightly harder. Before Vers. Before he knew what it was to give yourself to another.

 

"And what will happen when you fail over and over to move me?"

 

"The Supremor has accepted my failure. I have been given instruction for your next mission." Ni-Er shrugged.

 

"And what is that?" Yon-Rogg sneered, imagining all the horrors the SI could force him to commit.

 

"You are to face yourself. You will be sent far from the Supremor's light. To a place that will break you. I am to choose the place." She gave a satisfied grin.

 

"Then why come to me again? Just send me there."

 

"I wanted to give you one last chance to submit to me. To let me teach you to love the Empire once again so unpleasantness might be avoided." She hugged her knees to herself. Her large dark eyes were trying to will him to save himself.

 

"And why would you give someone you despise the opportunity? What power does that serve?"

 

"I told you my cells began in the body of Minn-Erva. Though I don't share her memories, there are pieces of her inside me that I cannot deny. And when I look at you Commander-" Ni-Er glanced down. She looked shameful like he was pulling a confession from her "you feel like mine."

She leaned quickly across the small space, her mouth pressing against his. The blood that sprung from her lip tasted sour in his mouth.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Into the Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one for today! Breaking through into the finale.
> 
> I am posting from my phone hiding in my work bathroom so I am limited, BUT AnonymousMink made some amazing fanart for Chalice and you need to look at it! I will link it properly once I am home, but for now I will just say publicly that I adore her.

Ni-Er pushed her mouth against his, it was a hard meeting of flesh and teeth. She split her lip against his resistance. The smell of her own blood spurred her on and she set her teeth about his lip. She bit down trying to draw blood to the surface. Yon-Rogg was frozen for a moment in shock and revulsion, the heat of her tongue seeking his blood shook him. His hand instinctively struck her sternum knocking her backwards. Her teeth scraped against him finally drawing the blood she had sought so hotly from him. He hissed at her bringing his sleeve to his lip, the blue speckling the white. He could smell his blood, Vers' blood tight to his nose, making his heart pound and desire for something dark and nebulous rise up inside him. He pushed himself far into the metal headboard, wrapping a hand around the cold surface. His knuckles whitened as he tried to swallow what she had unleashed.

 

Ni-Er had landed half on the bed half off. Her hungry tongue lapping at the blue-black blood that dribbled down from her own split lip.

 

"You will regret this Commander," she grinned at him. "I will send you to the worst pit I can think of in the Galaxy and I won't come for you until you beg me to take your family if only you could see the light of the Supremor again."

 

"The Supremor is wasting their side of the bargain if they get rid of me. They won't be able to hold my wife once she is strong, and there is not much time left," he hissed at her the scrape on his lip already knitting itself together. He had already been with the ground forces for months. Vers would be well into her term by now, ready to spring free and unleash fire on the ones that held her. He would aid her in her charge. He would strike back and be the hands that carried their child from the mouth of the beast.

 

He had not allowed himself to picture how she must look now, round and weighted, it was too painful to observe that kind of joy through a glass lense. In his mind, she was floating celestial as she had been when he had first become bonded to her. Her body glowing with light that was not the overwhelming of her cells with photon energy but the radiating power of what their bodies had created.

 

Ni-Er could not imagine the hell he was already in being so far from them. Her mouth could run with blood and it could stain her teeth black as she grinned at him, but he felt no fear when he looked at her heated wild eyes. Anywhere she sent him he would claw his way out of again. If anything it granted him an opportunity to free himself. The SI could not calculate and strategize within the chaos of hellish worlds. It could only ever rule the Kree. It was not made for conquering a place that had no rules, it could not subjugate without the Kree. He saw that now. Yon-Rogg had come to learn the limitations of his former master. If the SI thought they had weighed him and found him wanting he would show them they had barely skimmed the surface of his devotion. He would prove they had never known all of him.

 

Ni-Er stood on shaking legs. In that moment she was as filled with raw darkness as he was. Finally she wiped the blood from herself, spitting a congealed mass of it on the ground.

 

"There will come a time where you will wish you had swallowed that blood instead of wasting it, Commander. Enjoy your new post." She turned from him walking quickly to the door. Yon-Rogg's eyes were on the marbled blue splatter on the floor.

 

"Now my cell reeks of you. I shall be happy to leave it." He called to her back. She paused her hand hovering over the lock.

 

"We will see how you feel when you arrive on Nefros."

 

* * *

 

Carol was frozen in place. She knew she had heard him stir. Her heart was a dull thud high in her throat. She didn't know why she felt this way, first Lawson then her father. They never both came. It was one or the other. Now both in one night, each asking questions she didn't know how to answer. Now her home felt like a fearful place. As if it was not Yon moving among the sheets but some unknown thing. She felt dizzy again, the world was blurring. She gripped the cold bottle even harder to her chest, feeling the comforting hardness against her sternum. She thought for one wild moment that if anything but Yon came lurching out of the darkness she would smash the bottle into its head and gouge at it with the shattered glass.

 

She felt the movement in the soles of her feet through the metal drum skin that was the trailer floor. She braced her body. She couldn't see anything more than a darker spot of darkness as the mattress moved. At last, the blood rushing in her ears, Yon's pale body emerged from the blankets. Carol sagged against the counter. She felt very silly for the fear that had just gripped her.

 

"Danvers?" Yon walked towards her in small shuffling steps. His voice was heavy with sleep. "What are you doing?"

 

"I couldn't sleep," she answered bringing the cold bottle to her lips. He leaned on the opposite counter stretching his neck.

 

"Do you have that problem often?" He asked, even standing her kitchen in just his boxers he managed to sound like a therapist. She knew they'd crossed the line and he could no longer help her as he had, but she wondered if he would ever stop thinking of her as a patient.

 

"Why Doc, did you think you'd tired me out?" She asked smiling against the glass of the bottle. He gave her his half smile and reached for the bottle. She thought for a moment he was going to pour it out. Instead he brought it to his lips.

 

"Is it always so hot in here, it can't be good for you." He finished the cold beer. She considered protesting, but she didn't want the lecture.

 

"I am surviving," she flashed her eyes at him. He stepped into her pulling her against him. He kissed her temple, her forehead and fanned small kisses along her jaw. Carol mockingly tried to shove him off but he tightened his arms around her. He rubbed his nose against hers until she laughed.

 

"You are so pathetic," he smiled at her and she punched him in the arm. He caught her fist and pressed a kiss against her knuckles. "I feel like I should rescue you."

 

He was too hot and as much as he made her restless to seek refuge in his body she couldn't take the sweat anymore. She pushed him away, softening the rejection by kissing his jaw. Following her lips with the scrape of her teeth. He grunted but let her go.

 

"Why? Does your place have air conditioning?" She asked starting to move back to the bed. He grabbed her hand. She stopped to look at him.

 

"We could make our own," he nodded his head to the bike outside.

 

"Can I drive?" She asked her eyes lighting up. Yon shook his head.

 

"How many fingers?" He asked holding up four fingers on his left hand. Carol squinted her eyes.

 

"One, two, three, four," she answered touching her index finger to each of his finger tips. He shook his head at her. "Fine, fine safety first."

 

"Think of it as a reason to get better, Danvers,"

 

* * *

 

The atmosphere above Nefros was thick with black cloud formations and arcs of lightning. He could see it through the screens of the launch deck. He was dressed in his armour again. Not the new class he had been given when he joined the ground forces but his old Starforce one. The armour he had deserted them in, the armour he wore for four years at Carol's side. It felt like a return when he had sealed himself into it. Ni-Er had watched him dress. He felt her eyes flickering to each inch of skin as he covered it. He tried to keep his emotions at bay. To bury the elation he felt at being sent exactly where he needed to go so deep the SI couldn't sense it. No one could know how desperate he was to reach the surface and continue his mission.

 

After she had left him the night before her words had finally settled inside him. She was not Minn-Erva. His friend was still dead. She had never been returned to him and he could never rescue her from within Ni-Er. He was once again without allies. He was left to wonder what other rumours had been true during his service, what other laws of nature had been violated.

 

The SI might have misjudged him, but how much did he know of their most secret of plans? Would knowing they so willing harvested DNA have changed his choice in bringing his wife to them? Questions without answers plagued him. His brief time of panic on Ledas seemed several life times ago.

 

He tore his eyes away from the thundering mass below him as the large Kree warship loomed in the space above Nefros, and turned to the drop capsule that would take him to the planet's surface. It had been stripped of survival supplies and weapons. It was no more than an empty shell that would convey him to the planet's unseen surface. He had made the drop into the unknown many times before, but this would be the first time he was alone.

 

As he looked into the hard eyes of the technicians around him and the sneering face of Ni-Er Yon-Rogg realized that until he had Vers back he would always be alone. That before her maybe he always had been.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally at a proper computer so I can share the link to AnonymousMink's amazing Chalice fanart. Did I mention I love and appreciate her? Because I do.
> 
>  
> 
> <https://anonymousmink.tumblr.com/post/185042874517/a-lil-yonvers-fanart-completely-inspired-by-and>  
> 
> 
> I also love and appreciate everyone who has stuck out this little slice of madness and said so many nice things.

Ni-Er had been restless on the journey back from Nefros. For the first time in months, she was without a charge. She had thought she would be glad to be rid of him, but something gnawed at the pit in her stomach. The Supremor had trusted her to select his place of exile. Ni-Er had chosen her Mother's favourite place to jettison her failures. She had not even considered an alternate but what if she had chosen wrong, perhaps she should have chosen more carefully. Had this been a test from the Supremor to see how she had grown in cunning since her Mother's death? Had she failed?

 

Now she was docked on the holding ship orbiting Hala. Everywhere she walked she was reminded of Behr-Alt. Though Behr-Alt had many children she had no true successor. The ones who came close to her intelligence were often physical failures, their electric intellects overwhelming weak bodies. The ones who grew strong in their bodies often lacked the intelligence to strategize and survive in the field. Ni-Er had been the rare exception. his should have made Ni-Er her mother's favourite and while it singled her out in the Supremor's esteem Behr-Alt was never as pleased with her. Parlour tricks and stunts had been how she referred to Ni-Er's time in training. Behr-Alt was always yearning for what she couldn't achieve. Ni-Er felt a constant ebb of loss in her mother, something from a time long long ago. Before Ni-Er, Behr-Alt had experienced much loss and failure. To her, everything had the potential for gene manipulation. Even her own body. She had tried to modify her skin, to distinguish herself among the upper castes with a brilliant blue complexion. Instead, the story went she had burned herself from the inside out turning herself near transparent in the process. Relegating her deformed body even farther from the spotlight.

 

Ni-Er wondered what her mother would think of the direction the Supremor had taken her research. Rather than collecting the most prized DNA and refining it into super soldiers, the Supremor had gone for quantity. They blubbed out half-formed personalities that tended to crowd around their sister colonies, so they moved in glassy-eyed waves. Every corner Ni-Er turned on board the bright white medical ship seemed to teem with them. In this case a wise move. If the Terran were to unleash her power they would all be incinerated. It made no sense to sacrifice true Kree bodies to the cause. Not to mention the last time a Kree had been charged with her care he fancied himself in love and helped her escape.

 

Ni-Er scoffed her thoughts coming round again to the deserter. His rejection shouldn't rankle as hard as it did. She wished she understood what history he had with the bearer of her sister cells. How could he call to some hidden memory in her and yet belong so firmly to another? It felt like a betrayal.

 

Now Ni-Er was to stand watch over the weapon. Something must have spooked the Supremor. It was true, even an army of clones would not be enough to protect her if the ship were to be stormed. However, that seemed unlikely. Until the Supremor gave her orders there was nothing to do but wait and try to avoid memories of her mother.

 

* * *

 

The extremely cold nights were balanced by humid days. The small planet seemed to constantly swing from one end of the spectrum to the other. Vers in her indomitable spirit had wanted to explore the surface, Yon-Rogg had followed her begrudgingly. He couldn't leave her side when they had a whole planet any more than he could when they had only the small ship. He could only rest when she was in sight.

 

When he had awoken after their first night he had been alone, she had slipped away once the sun began to warm the rooms again. He had felt the loss of her. He had controlled his instincts he reassured himself. It had been a test of will when skin was pressed against skin, but he had been wary of frightening her off. The last thing he needed was to wake up with no ship and no Vers. A small part of him hoped she had been disappointed at his perseverance, that maybe she had wanted him as badly as he wanted her. He tried to crush that hope. It served nothing to languish in desire.

 

That desire is what had him trudging through the thick wood, perspiration rolling off him. Everywhere they were surrounded by dark wood and shade and yet the planet sweat. They had walked deep into the woods that had bordered the limits of the fueling station. The trees grew thick together almost as if their huddled masses protected them from the cold at night. He was unfamiliar with the type of tree but the air was heavy with the scent of them; warm, citrus and heady. It made the woods smell like a place of worship.

 

He followed Vers from a few paces behind, her golden hair seemed to glow against the bark and leaves.

 

"Do you have a destination in mind or is the plan to walk until we collapse?" He called ahead to her. She glanced briefly over her shoulder, he could see a wicked grin quirk the corner of her mouth.

 

"Am I tiring you out, Commander?" She called back turning to the narrow path in front of her. Yon-Rogg rolled his eyes heaven's ward.

 

"I don't know if you noticed but this planet becomes uninhabitable at a certain point of day and we can't see the sky. Walking without a plan could kill us," he tried to keep the exasperation out of his voice. The tenuous peace since they had settled here was easily upset.

 

"I had noticed it gets cold at night. I found out the same way you did," she was teasing him. Conjuring memories he had tried to reserve for his private reflections.

 

She stopped and he caught up with her. He has opened his mouth to retort, but he closed it as the scene came into view over her shoulder. The densely packed trees opened slightly to reveal a small pond. The water was black in the dim light of the woods but it looked clear.

 

"Did you know this was here?" He asked. Vers turned her head to look at him.

 

"How long has it been since you have been in water that hasn't been tank cycled?"

 

The answer was long. Too long. He almost couldn't remember what it was like to not feel the burn of sterilizer when the water hit his skin. Vers was already walking to the edge, hands pulling at the clasps of her suit. By the time she reached the water, she was stripped to the waist. She sat on the ground and began pulling at her boots. Once she stood she began removing her undershield. Yon-Rogg was watching her, his stomach falling away as each pale inch of skin was revealed. Skin he knew, skin that had been pressed up against him. He swallowed, biting the inside of his cheek. He couldn't let his imagination run wild.

 

She looked back at him, tilted her head eyes glancing to the dark pool.

 

"Are you coming in?" She called back at him, already dipping her toes in the water. She drew back laughing. "It's cold."

 

That would do, his body argued. The cold would help. The cold would centre him. The cold would douse his heated desire for her. He forced his feet to move closer to the water. He began stripping away the layers, each clasp he released allowing heat to escape away from his skin. She continued to waver on the edge of the water for a moment. Once he came closer she stopped delaying and stepped her feet into the water. She hissed. A sharp intake of breath that settled low in Yon-Rogg's groin. As he reached his inner layers he stayed behind her, out of her line of sight. He may have confessed his devotion to her but he was not ready for her to see the physical effects of his desire.

 

They waded out like this, her in front him a few paces behind. The water was clear and fresh. Beneath his feet, he felt the soft shifting of sand and silt. The water was near freezing and they took slow hesitant steps.

 

"You know how to swim without your suit, right?" He asked.

 

"Yes, Joe Danvers threw me in the neighbour's pool when I was six and I lived to tell the tale," she answered. She said it laughing but Yon-Rogg felt a small pit in his stomach whenever she remembered her father. He didn't sound like an honourable man.

 

"Surely there would have been better ways to teach you," he muttered. He didn't want to argue, he wanted to watch the cold water lick its way up her thighs. She was shorter than him, soon her legs would disappear from his view.

 

"I don't know, I think your training methods had a lot in common," she glanced over her shoulder arching her eyebrows at him.

 

"You were an adult. Children are different. You wouldn't raise your children that way," the words were out of his mouth before he could consider their implication. After all that he confessed would they be his children as well? Or would Vers one day leave him for a mate with a less sordid history? His stomach clench as he watched the muscles in her back tighten. She didn't move for the briefest second before she continued wading on.

 

"I hadn't thought about it. Too busy saving the universe." She sounded nonchalant. Unphased. He blamed her coldness for the foolishness that continued to flow from him.

 

"Then what are you saving the universe for?"

 

"I am saving it for your children, Yon," the sentiment hung heavy between them for a brief moment before she walked a little farther. "And Talos' and Maria's. It never been for myself."

 

The pool began to deepen, the water rising quickly up her legs to below her hip bones. She gave a little yelp. Yon-Rogg behind her was gritting his teeth refusing to show the cold. Her words were being pulled apart again and again in his mind. Was she letting him down easy? Was she rejecting him in this dim wooded cathedral?

 

"Okay I am over the cold," she shivered as the water rippled around her. She began to glow, Yon-Rogg could clearly see her legs refracted and elongated in the black water, her skin golden and glowing. The water began to warm around them as she dipped lower.

 

"Careful Vers, you'll wake the fish," he said low and taunting as he stepped closer to her warmth away from the cold water behind them.

 

"There are no fish-" she started to say before her words were cut off with a shriek. The glow extinguished and she flailed backward into him. Instinctively her arms came around his neck and he scooped her up so she was cradled against his chest, her body just above the water. She was laughing and panting into his shoulder. His arms tightened around her. "Something brushed my leg."

 

"The mighty Vers scared of a little fish," he teased her. She tightened her muscles pulling herself more firmly against him, the water slipping between them as it rolled off her body. She felt warm, slick and glorious.

 

"It was a big fish," she protested glancing distrustfully into the water.

 

"Shall we see if we can find him?" Yon-Rogg asked taking a step forward.

 

"What?" Vers' voice was thick with concern and suspicion.

 

"Fancy a dip?" Yon-Rogg grinned at her and Vers' eyes widened. She tried to push away from him but he held her too firmly. Gripping her to his chest he bent his knees and plunged them into the water.

 

* * *

 

Carol finally felt cool, not cold, not static but the refreshing relief from the boiling heat. She had wrapped her arms around Yon's waist as he revved the engine and then all she felt was the blissful jerk of speed. She had missed this feeling of flying, her stomach falling away, her muscles alive and resisting the pull, the sound of power around her.

 

Yon had driven fast through the abandoned country roads, some places were paved but as they drove farther from the lights the asphalt beneath them gave way to gravel. The wind whipped around her bare arms and small chips of stone clinked off the wheels. She kept her eyes closed as the scenery whipped passed, the world wanting to tilt and turn in on itself. They drove until she could smell the green smell of grass and trees, the world nothing more than cool wind, the firm muscle of Yon beneath her and the smell of life.

 

She felt the bike tilt and climb, she tightened her arms around him. He smelled like cologne faded away to an aura of warmth and spice, like dark wood under the sun. When they finally stopped and he leaned the bike in place, she let go of him. The speed had felt good but it left her light-headed. He reached for her, holding her two hands as she slid her leg over the bike. He steadied her as she found her footing, his hands gripping her arms.

 

"You're cold," he said shrugging his jacket from his shoulders. He wrapped it around her.

 

"That was the point wasn't it?" She asked, clenching her fist she placed it solidly against his sternum, making her eyes focus on how real and solid he was. When she could see clearly again she looked out. They were on a hill, the city far away from the distant clutter of lights.

 

"Cool not frozen," Yon smiled at her pulling her arms around his waist, wrapping his arms around her. She rested her head there for a few minutes listening to his heartbeat. She tried to keep the words of her spectres far away. Of course, Yon was real, and they had time to learn about each other.

 

"What happens now?" She asked her words muffled in his shirt.

 

"You could tell me about what is keeping you awake," he said she felt his words rumble in her chest. She tilted her chin so she could look up at him.

 

"I meant with my treatment. You can't stay my therapist." He gripped her shoulders and tilted her away so he could look at her. His gold eyes were even more mysterious in the moonlight.

 

"There are other options. Other therapists, I could recommend."

 

"What will you tell the air force?" The question had been gnawing at her.

 

"That you seduced me," Yon grinned wickedly at her and she aimed a punch at his shoulder. He laughed as he soothed the hit. "I will tell them I wasn't a good fit and your care has been handed off to someone else."

 

He stepped behind her to lean on his bike, he reached for her cradling her against him so his arms wrapped around her middle.

 

"You think they will believe that?" She tried to turn so she could look at him, he nestled his chin in her shoulder.

 

"I don't think they'll care as long as you don't show up to court-martial with bouncing gold eyed baby boy." His hands drummed against her belly and she elbowed him.

 

"That's not funny," she scolded him as she tried not to grin.

 

"Which part the court-martial or the baby?" He kissed beside her ear.

 

"Both. Are you trying to scare me off?" She leaned into him, hands toying with his fingers on her stomach.

 

"If you don't want children, I would rather you say it now." He said seriously in her ear, Carol tensed. The truth was she didn't know. She loved Monica, but watching what Maria went through she didn't know if she was made for it. The thought of being alone scared her, and somehow she could only see herself as alone. She thought Yon might be holding his breath too.

 

"I don't want children," she said bracing for him to let her go or to argue with her. Instead, he just held her tight hands comfortingly firm on her lower belly.

 

"Anything you say, Danvers."

* * *

 

The capsule dropped Yon-Rogg deep into the mire, the fetid smell of peat wafted up with every sloshing step. There was no sign of life other than the flies rising with the drafts of mist coming off the grey sludgy water.

 

Yon-Rogg had waded through bogs like this before, but he remembered the smell as alive with rot and damp, the scent of fertility even if it was overwhelming. Nefros was necrotic, the surface monochromatic and damp. The muck sucked at his legs and his muscles were tiring as he sloshed in a random direction. He had no way of knowing where the nearest town was or where he should begin looking for Gerault.

 

He only knew he had to keep going forward or let the bog take him.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My eyes are tired so I only read this once. Maybe I will fix it after some sleep. If not forgive me and be nice anyway 😛
> 
> Welcome to nefros

The shore was no more a relief than the water. Yon-Rogg had seen the dark black line hovering in front of him for many hours with nothing to slow his path but the endless sucking of the muck on his body. He walked slow and deliberately, aware that a burst of speed could churn up the silt and cause his body to sink deeper.

 

The shore was the same ashen grey as the mire, flakes of dehydrated salt marking the places where the water sometimes rose. Yon-Rogg was dehydrated and starved. Ni-Er had removed everything from his drop capsule and the basic life supports of his suit were overwhelmed by the mineral rich water that ran fetid beneath the silt. He wondered that she did not just kill him. He suspected she might be monitoring him through the chip, watching from light years away as his organs failed.   
At least, it was easier to move on the shore. There was a chance he might survive, and until his last breath he would seek out Gerault. He considered trying to reach the Skrull. To demand his help at least in locating the man he called "the key". Yon-Rogg looked around him surveying the surface as bleak and lifeless as it was. He found it hard to believe another man stood upon the planet let alone thrived here. It was certainly not outside the SI's notice. Yon-Rogg turned his eyes skyward and watched the storm move high above him. There was no humidity, no suggestion of water being about to fall from the sky. He wondered how well the SI could monitor him through the atmosphere. Maybe this truly was a place for forgotten things. As he walked, the ground around his feet shifted and slid against itself moving more like cinder than soil. He thought of what the Skrull had sent him. There was a line in the poem 'ashes, ashes'. That was what this place was, ashes.

 

He continued walking, dark forms of mountains were on the horizon. He wondered if they would harbour towns or settlements. He could not scan; the air was too full of haze. On either side of him the earth would give way to more quagmire leaving him walking along a narrow strip of land.

 

Although the landscape didn't change he began to see in front of him bobbing lights. At first he thought they were hallucinations. They seemed to float above the marsh. He thought of tales he heard on other planets of lights that pulled lost travellers from their paths. The Kree had no such legends, but in this dark and stormy world everything and anything felt possible.

 

He knew he should keep moving but the lights bobbed so entrancingly through the vapour rising from the marsh. He felt less alone looking at them. He was lost in thought, when he heard the splash of someone scrambling onto shore and the gruff grumbling of voices. He tensed. He had no weapon only his tired aching body. He turned in the direction of the noise, his feet shifting to get a sense of the terrain. He saw three figures emerge on the path in front of him, they had baskets on their backs, murky water poured out the bottom and splattered the backs of their legs. Above them on tall poles swung small globes of light. Reeds poked out the top of their baskets. Yon-Rogg had passed many of these swaying clusters, crowned with bursts of small white flowers that reeked of sickly sweet flesh. The figures paused as they saw him.

 

They stood apart, each unwilling to move forward or backward. At last, a small portly man with sagging grey features stepped apart from the others.

 

"You look like a Kree," he said in a thick lilting voice. His tongue tripped over the letters, the sound coming from deep within his chest. The other two bristled behind the leader. "We don't like Kree."

 

"I can't help what I am," Yon-Rogg answered trying to sound nonchalant, bored even. His suit had long since lost its Starforce colours, an absence of allegiance to a rank. Like a monk, he wore black.

 

"Who has sent you then? Not many Kree would dare come here." The man took him in, taking a step closer.

 

"I am in exile after I deserted four years ago." Yon-Rogg saw no reason not to tell the truth. They were the first people he met, he had to convince them to help him. Deceit would not be a fruitful way to begin. "I seek shelter and supplies here. I am willing to work."

 

As always he had nothing to offer except his body. The older man looked him up and down carefully. The other two seemed to be conferring over his head, but he paid them no mind. The grey silt stuck in his wrinkles, making them look deeper and lending an unearthly blur to his face.

 

"And who do you serve now if not the Kree and their leader?" Everything he said was spoken in a low voice, like the call of cargo ship across the water. Flat but musical.

 

"I am the consort of Captain Marvel. I serve only my wife," he saw an intensity ripple across them. It was part awe and part disbelief. He wondered that word of his wife had spread even to this strange waterlogged hellscape.

 

"And why should we believe you?" Asked the tall one in the back, they were younger but their face was marked by the dappling of mud. It aged them.

 

"I bear no mark. All I have is my word."

 

"On Nefros all many of us have is our word," the old man said. "Our word and our stories. We will give you the food and shelter you seek. In exchange you will give us your stories."

 

The other two shared a look over the old man's head. Yon-Rogg knew they did not like the arrangement. He would need to tread carefully.

 

Yon-Rogg did not know what to call the place they brought him to. It was not a town nor village per se, but it was a place life collected. There were some permanent buildings, but others were merely tents. He came to learn the old man's name was Svål, but the other two remained silent. Svål took him to a large central meeting house, it was the most complex of the buildings, containing more than one room and a semblance of windows, they had framed out squares and stretched canvas over them. The canvas was oiled until it was hardened and shone with the lanterns inside. As they walked in all conversation stopped and everyone seemed to be looking at them. He supposed strangers were a rare sight in these parts.

 

Svål walked him to a darkened back room and lit the candles. There was not much in the room beside bales of dried reeds and some long wooden benches and frames. The back wall was partially framed out of canvas, the membrane showing wear as it was obviously repeatedly pulled open and closed. It reeked vaguely of marsh.

 

"You will eat here and clean the salt from you. Nothing lasts long here unless the salt is kept out." Svål said gruffly, returning to the door. Yon-Rogg understood by his tone and manner he was not free to wander, but was to remain where he was. They must have things to discuss. He nodded at Svål who left him in the dim light.

 

Yon-Rogg surveyed his surroundings, and tried to picture where on Nefros Gerault would hide himself. If he was as powerful as the Skrull said he must be well hidden. Could someone hide among so few people?

 

He heard the clattering of dishes and he turned to look at the door. An old, old woman was bustling into the room, trying to balance a heavily laden tray. She had rags thrown over one arm. Yon-Rogg immediately moved to help her but she made a defiant tutting sound at him.

 

"Once they load you up too much, help is more of a burden. Just stay out of my way, young man," her voice was high but full. He would never have guessed her age by it. His lips quirked involuntarily at being called "young man". It had been many years since he fit that epiphet.

 

She settled the dishes on the table in loud clattering piles then draped the rags over the back of the chair. Yon-Rogg realized they were meant to be clothes. He approached the table, hand instinctively reaching for a covered dish. The woman made another tutting noise and smacked his hand away.

 

"Leave the food until you are clean, or you will rot your gut." She chided him indicating the basin of water with a wash cloth draped over it. She stepped away to sit in a chair. Was this woman meant to be his keeper? Yon-Rogg looked about for somewhere he could go. "Oh ignore me, I will keep my eyes closed."

 

She leaned back, settling herself comfortably hands folded on her stomach. She shut her eyes dutifully. Yon-Rogg watched her for a moment. She was so still he wondered if she had immediately dropped off to sleep. He began to unclasp his armour, grateful to peel it away. The humid air had worked its way against his skin leaving him sticky and uncomfortable. He stripped down to his inner most layer, the room was warm and he felt oddly safe in the candle light with only an old woman to keep guard. As he reached for the the steamy wash cloth, wringing it out into the water he glanced over his shoulder at her. He could see the black glint of her eye peaking beneath her lashes.

 

"Really?" He asked in disbelief. The woman giggled opening her eyes all the way and looking him up and down.

 

"Don't worry about me. I will be dead soon. Worry about you," she waved for him to continue on and Yon-Rogg found himself laughing as he turned back to the water.

 

"Why is it you remind me of my wife?" He asked more to himself. His celestial blood mate had nothing in common with the shrunken pit of a woman sitting watch over him.

 

"Wise women know laughter is the best way to face everything. Your wife is also a wise woman?" 

 

Yon-Rogg thought as he washed the marsh from his skin. Nothing his wife ever did would be what he considered wise, but a joke was always on her lips. It was her way of being brave as she squared up against every injustice she encountered.

 

"You have a nice smile," the old woman teased him. "Do you know what you are going to say yet?"

 

"Say?" Yon-Rogg was puzzled as he stepped into the clothes she had brought. They were sturdier than they appeared, the seams made up of rows and rows of sloppy stitches. Yon-Rogg wondered if it was this woman's handiwork. 

 

"Yes, my dear. Here on Nefros we have few things to trade, but a newcomer can earn his keep by telling his story but it better be a good story or-" the woman pulled a small hand across her throat. Yon-Rogg sat opposite her. Dragging his armour into his lap to work away the salt with a rag. He was speechless. 

 

"I don't know how to begin to tell it." He said at last trying to think where his story began, how he came to be on this dark and stormy planet.

 

"You must know how to tell a story, we learn from the time we are children. The brave and the strong triumph over the ruthless and the selfish. It's how the story goes," she watched him struggle with his work. At last she sighed. "Give it to Minha. I will work while you eat."

 

"The Kree have lost their mythos, and it is our way to burn frivolous stories from the world's we conquer," Yon-Rogg has spent many years as a deceiver, but he was not a storyteller. He passed her his task so he could fall on the food and drink his body had been screaming for. He took the cover off a bowl and turned so he could watch her work. Her hands were old and wrinkled but still nimble. Minha worked quickly her head shaking at what he had told her.

 

"Do you know what this room is?" She asked her small dark eyes sweeping around the strange collection of items cramped around them. Yon-Rogg shook his head, mouthful of the oddly sweet swollen grain they had given him to eat. He only paused to swig at the sour beer to force down the mouthfuls that stuck in his throat.

 

"This is the room where we make the bricks. It was Svål's idea. We are so surrounded by marsh and peat. Why should we not turn them into the foundation of a town. It would be the first one. Everywhere else on Nefros you are either in a camp for the salt mines, horrible places, or you wander. Svål thought we could make bricks so he went one day out into the marsh and he began to gather clusterposies. Those long reeds. They stink of death so no one would touch them. We all thought he was crazy when he first went out. Svål is from the salt mines, you see. They are horrible places and he had been born there. So, we were always ready for Svål to lose his hold on his senses."

 

"Why did he leave?" Yon-Rogg asked exploring a small dish of boiled roots. He thought of how precious food would be here. They fed him well so they must think they were purchasing an amazing story.

 

"He met a wizard. A man who hung about the mine that no one counted. This man opened his eyes to what the rest of the universe was like. He filled Svål with a desire to see the surface of Nefros. To conquer and shape the land into a home for all. You see, The Kree never came to put us in chains, but we are broken by other things. Nefros is the place people come to be forgotten, to be preserved in salt and peat and tucked away in hidden places. Svål wanted to change all that, but first he would need a brick. Which is how he ended up in the marsh. Do you know how to make a brick?"

 

Minha paused her work to look at him. Yon-Rogg shook his head. Although he knew how the story must end as he had seen the results of Svål's labour he found himself wrapped up in Minha's words. She spoke not as if she was thinking of the story but as if the story came from deep within her. It was entrancing.

 

The spell was broken by a sound at the door. It was one of the silent brickmakers he had met in the marsh. Yon-Rogg watched him warily, trying to place his dish on the table silently without rattling the clay dishes.

 

"Minha, the Circle is ready for the newcomer," the dour man said in his heavy voice. Minha sighed and waved him away, putting aside her work. For the first time in a long time Yon-Rogg felt unsure of himself.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Accidentally almost changed the number of chapters to 245. I mean can you imagine? I promise we are closer than that. 
> 
> Everyone is so wonderful. The good ship Yonvers has been blessed with some very affirming deleted scenes. I hope everyone has yelled loudly about them to your confused and scared significant others. I know I have.
> 
> Love you, love your comments, love your kudos. If you haven't left one in a while know that I miss you and I hope you are doing well <3
> 
> EDIT I forgot like a fool who was eager to post that GrotesqueEnchantment and Anonymous Mink were invaluable editors and feedback machines this whole chapter and that I adore them and their brains to the ends of the earth.

Carol sat in a different patient room. She had been dreading this day, putting it off for as long as possible, but time had inevitably moved forward. Now she sat hunched over in the sticky plastic chair clicking one thumbnail against the other. She was worried. Not that her new therapist wouldn't be good. She trusted Yon's choice.

 

She was worried that there was nothing that could be done. She was worried the constant feeling that something was wrong, that this was all not quite how things were supposed to be would never end, that the world when she tried to focus her eyes on it would constantly spin away from her. What if Yon had been the only one to believe she could get better? These thoughts had plagued her for weeks. Ever since she and Yon had taken steps forward they could not undo.

 

Not that she regretted it. She was beginning to think the world only felt real when they were together, but her personal happiness came at the cost of her plans for a return to the sky. Now she was starting back at zero.

 

The clicking of her nails faded in with the clicking of shoes. Carol realized someone was coming down the hall. She straightened up and tucked her fidgeting hands between her knees.

 

She held her breath as the door opened and she saw a tall slim woman framed briefly by the ugly beige paneling of the hallway. Her black hair was piled in an artfully messy bun and her face was stunning. Carol realized this must be the person Yon trusted with her future care.

* * *

  
Yon-Rogg didn't know what to expect when he walked out of the small dim brickmaking room into the large well lit common room. More people had gathered and they were seated in a large circle. Some had chairs others sat on tables or leaned against wooden beams. More packed in around the floor. All were covered in a fine layer of dust and grime with salt lines marking their clothes. Yon-Rogg didn't need to be told to step into the centre of the circle. There would be no preamble.

 

He negotiated himself into the center, slipping passed chairs and bodies. He could see Svål at the edge of the crowd watching him. The others were aware of him too. Their eyes seemed to dart back to him every once in a while.

 

Yon-Rogg stood in the centre, he tried to think of how Minha had begun her story.

 

"Do you know what I am?" He asked the circle of brickmakers. They looked around at each other but no one spoke up. He heard the word "Kree" rumble among them but it seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere. "I am a Kree. I come from a planet named Hala, but I have traveled to the farthest reaches of the Galaxy. My name is Yon, eldest son of the house of Rogg. I am the warrior who found and brought back the greatest weapon of the Kree, the mighty Vers. I found her on a lake bed, glowing like a star. Body dying, but her spirit stronger than her weak Terran flesh."

 

He watched murmurs spread through the circle as the crowd heard of a mighty Kree weapon. Yon-Rogg felt a tinge of guilt omitting the moments that led to his wife becoming one with the Starfire. The pursuit, the traitor's death, Carol's sacrifice. They all felt distant and immaterial after all that had passed between them. This was about finding help for his wife, about rescuing their child.

 

"I gave myself to her to save her. I halved my strength so she would survive. For six years I dedicated myself to her and her strength," he paused looking around the room. He realized there were some words he had never said out loud to anyone, especially to strangers. Words that now must be said. "I fell in love with her. I left everything I was before to guard her. I fled with her when she overpowered her Kree captors and I won her love in return. She became Captain Marvel and I am her consort."

 

It seemed so simple when said with words. He watched the effect of her name, of her escape, ripple through the circle. He had turned every so often to glance at the crowd behind them. "Captain Marvel" echoed back at him like a prayer. Some faces softened to him, others looked at him with suspicion. He understood. Captain Marvel had disappeared and now he was standing on the Planet for the Forgotten pleading his case.

 

"I am here now because the Kree have taken her again," he felt the words choke his throat. Anger and sadness vying for the space in his heart. "We were taken captive on Ledas. Even now she grows round with our child, but it was too strong. It was fighting her body. The Kree took advantage of our weakness and desperation. They made a prisoner of her and a slave of me. They have sent me here to suffer, but they do not know that there is a man on this planet who is stronger than their overlord. A man who can free my wife. I have come to beg for his help. Please if you know of such a man-"

 

His voice broke with the magnitude of what he was asking these ragged, filthy people and he had no more words. He had exposed his wounds while hiding his own inadequacies. He looked at the faces as they watched him and he felt like the venom he was. He was a deceiver, he was a murderer, his body had poisoned his wife with his love and desires. He fell to his knees. As he had fallen in front of the Skrull, how could he have known when this moment came that he would be even more broken, even more desperate. He could hear the crowd murmur. He did not know if they were pleased or not. He wondered if he was about to die on his knees. A fate that once sickened him, but now he found himself too empty and worthless to care.

 

He saw movement, a dark shape he knew to be Minha shifting on the edge of the circle. He didn't know why but he wished she would come to him. He wanted her to tell him he had told the story well. Instead, another figure approached from the opposite edge. He saw him move closer, felt his square solid shape move in shadow before his downcast eyes. Svål squatted before him.

 

"You ask a lot of us, Kree," he said in his flat round voice. A voice at odds with itself.

 

"I know," Yon-Rogg breathed. "I will find my way to him if you only have a clue, a hint at which direction I must walk."

 

"I will ask you to suffer for it," Svål said his hands dropping heavy on Yon-Rogg's shoulders. Yon-Rogg nodded solemnly bracing himself for pain. "Because I will ask you to stay here with us."

 

Yon-Rogg looked up in shock, Svål's words echoing senselessly in his mind. His meaning was unclear, Yon-Rogg opened his mouth but no sound came out.

 

"Not for long, but long enough. We will teach you our ways so you may survive on your journey. Perhaps you will find the answers you seek."

 

Svål squeezed his shoulders, pushing himself upwards against Yon-Rogg's tense body. Minha came to collect him, whispering nonsense about what a good job he had down as he stood stiffly to his feet.

 

She led him away from the circle and behind him, Yon-Rogg heard the tumultuous babble of his story being repeated.

* * *

Talos had been motionless for too long. The cramped quarters were wearing on his senses, but he found he could not turn away from his view of Hala's orbit. He watched the constant stream of information as the atmo-ports beamed their shipping manifolds back and forth. For a few hours each cycle, a small dot traveled across the jewel-like surface of Hala. He was too far away to truly see it, but he felt it. His dear friend's closeness, her need, her fear. It could all be in his imagination, Skrullos knew he was no empath. Unlike his wife, but he was certain for those few hours a day his inner chaos grew.

 

He was running out of time. The ship was not stocked for an extended hovering in enemy territory and yet he could not leave. Even though he knew he was being foolish. He was being a bad leader and a bad father disappearing for so long. When the Kree had summoned him he knew he had to go himself, Soren had agreed but he knew she was hesitant. The Skrulls had hidden from everyone in the galaxy, only the deepest respect and gratitude could lure Talos away from his new found peace. Only Carol. The woman to whom he owed everything. If Soren's egg held a daughter it was unspoken between them from where they would derive her name. Hell, even a boy Talos thought. To him, it was the name of a warrior, a protector, a friend.

 

As if she sensed the turn in his thoughts Soren began hailing him. He opened the comm. They could speak quickly.

 

"Inamorata, I don't have long," Talos leaned in close to the floating spectre of his wife, eyes searching for any signs of change in her.

 

"What aren't you telling me?" Soren asked, her hand braced low on her belly. Soon she would be ready to pass her egg and then the terrifying game of waiting would begin and the first child of New Skrullos would emerge.

 

"Don't distress yourself. It is nothing," Talos waved a soothing hand hoping there were limits to his wife's abilities.

 

"So you have chosen not to come home for a trivial matter?" His wife's keen intellect gleamed behind her dark dark eyes. Why did he think he could fool this woman?

 

"I did not say that. I will return soon. I am visiting an old friend." It was not a lie Talos thought as he watched the grey grain of sand drift across the milky face of Hala.

 

"So you do not care that the navigation system of the Kree warship changed course after they left Zendinar in ashes?" His wife blinked innocently at him through the grainy green projection. Talos felt his blood run cold.

 

"Have you been spying again, Beloved?" He felt a heady mix of fear and arousal. His unconquerable wife. Even from a distant hidden planet, nothing escaped her. He would fall to his knees between her thighs if they were not separated by incomprehensible distance. She fiddled with the hem of her tunic, looking up at him with a demure pleased expression.

 

"I merely advised the monitoring of certain jump points for our own security. What if you had been captured, Inamorato?"

 

"Do you have so little faith in me?" He asked her biting back a smile. She knew she drove him crazy. He would father so many children from her they would lose count. He ached to be home now, even though the thought of leaving Carol was like a hot knife in his side.

 

"I have endless faith in you and your ability to court trouble." She smiled back at him. They couldn't talk much longer. They both knew it. "Rather than taking the jump back to Hala, they took QR67.4"

 

The comm began fading and wavering. The ship's Cut Out command to stop comms being detected while in cloak mode was cutting them off. His wife never saw the way he froze and fell back into his seat. His hand came up to his mouth.

 

"The bastard's made it Nefros," Talos muttered to the empty cockpit.

* * *

  
The muck and grime sloshed coldly against Yon-Rogg. Every movement caused small gushes of water to run down his legs from the basket on his back. Svål worked beside him, they were both dressed in the rough salt soaked garb of the Brickmakers. They worked silently, lights swaying above them. They did nothing to illuminate their work, Yon-Rogg learned they were to stop them from getting lost deep in the swallowing sucking silt. Every once in a while Svål would pause and turn his eyes to the horizon. Yon-Rogg would see his eyes flicker as he counted the lights. Yon-Rogg remembered this feeling, the care it took to be a leader, the silent work no one else saw. He had never inspired the devotion Svål did. He had heard his story whispered among the brickmakers. Told over and over to those who already knew it. So familiar it was like a song. He had never heard Svål tell it. He had also heard his own story, in the distance like a small prickle in his ear he would hear his wife's name spoken with reverence.

 

The salt collected against his skin, crusting and aching around his implant. He paused to rub the coarse fabric of his sleeve over the silver mound stretching his skin. He had not told them he was wired directly to the SI. The effect of the regulator seemed dulled. Yon-Rogg did not know if it was the constant storm raging overhead or if he had just become numb inside. As he stretched his neck he saw a line of brickmakers walking along the land bridge, thick bundles of reeds strapped to their backs.

 

"Where are they going?" He asked his eyes following them over the top of Svål's head.

 

"What do they have with them?" He asked in return eyes not leaving the reed patch in front of him.

 

"Bundles of clusterposies." Svål nodded at his answer.

 

"Then they are going to do business with the Saltraders. Saltraders take reeds. Birdfishers take baskets." He explained patiently, hands working at the stock of a reed. Its white cloudy head swayed back and forth, fanning the noxious smell in the air. Yon-Rogg was beginning to adapt to it. He looked at the white crusting in the seams of his clothes.

 

"Why do we not separate our own salt or hunt our own food?" He asked. Svål laughed.

 

"Don't you know my boy, we don't need to do it all just because we can. We must show our neighbours they are needed. Plus we can keep our ear out for what is coming our way. They will talk as they do trade."

 

Yon-Rogg marveled at the easy interdependence of the planet that allowed itself to need things rather than greedily consume all it had within its reach.

* * *

 

Ni-Er's body was exhausted as she limped back to her quarters. The Terran was round and bloated, Ni-Er had finally laid eyes on her. She was being suspended in the med bay, wrapped tightly in the embrace of the Supremor. Ni-Er had spoken with both her master and her charge today. It had been incredibly painful. Each moment its own agony she had to keep shoved deep inside.

 

She fell backward on her bed. Waves of nausea and small bursts of stars moved behind her eyes. She could feel the sickly cold sweat drying on her skin. She did not want to see how pale the pain had made her.

 

She longed for her brother. If she closed her eyes she could pretend she was small again. She could pretend she was back in her strange room in Behr-Alt's lab. When she felt sick and weak her brother always came to her. His poor bent and twisted body and mottled skin. He was too ugly to leave the lab Behr-Alt had hissed at her. He had a fattened misshapen lip and cheek, flecked with deep pores and a smattering of dark blotches ruining what was already a hideous face. Ni-Er did not know her brother was ugly until she had been allowed to look at true Kree. Until then she had only her mother, her brother, and her own distorted face in the curved glass of the lab equipment. She had thought her brother and she looked alike until her time in the academy had corrected her.

 

Before that time he had been a well of unending comfort. If he were here now he would curl on his side against her and rub small circles just above her navel until the nausea passed. He would tell her strange made up stories of things outside the lab. Things he could not possibly know.

 

Her brother was why she was sent to the academy. Behr-Alt had found them once, Ni-Er's head on his arm, their feet tangled together. She thought he had been stroking her cheek, but she wasn't sure. Her small pain-wracked body had been hovering somewhere between dreams and sleep. Her mother's shrieking had been what woke her and her brother's scrambling as he tried to escape Ni-Er's embrace. It had been a horrible scene. The next day she had been sent away, out into the world which was too big and too bright for her lonely heart.

 

She had been freed and her brother had died.

* * *

"Have you considered you are a man who walks among gods?" Minha asked him, her eyes never leaving the reed basket she was weaving. Yon-Rogg was sitting close to her on the ground. He liked to be near her when he was not in the field. He had not considered why, only that his time here was short and he liked to be beside her.

 

"I would hardly call the brickmakers gods," Yon-Rogg answered eyes on his own work repairing his basket.

 

"We will tell Svål's story for so long he will cease to be flesh and memory and become a god. And now you will be in that story too. Just as you're in Captain Marvel's story."

 

"Then you will be in it too, Minha."  
He had come to learn this was not her name, but a Nefrorian word for "mother". When he had learned this he had frozen, drink halfway to his lips, as the other Brickmakers looked at him. She had laughed at him shaking loose his shoulder, "Minha, Minha, Minha this is what everyone calls me because they know I will answer."

 

"No, they always forget the Minhas and the Hajas in those stories. You will learn when you hold your own little god, that it was not your story after all." She smiled as she spoke. Yon-Rogg stayed silent. The longer he was here the closer they drew to the birth of his child. If he didn't look at it directly, the pain would be numbed by work and he could follow Svål's advice to wait.

 

"You know we are alone right now, Daja?" Minha said quietly, the comforting shushing of dry reeds never pausing. She called him the name for 'son'. "And my eyes are not very good."

 

"Your eyes are better than mine," he said trying to keep himself in check, wary of the regulator in his neck causing her to distrust him.

 

"No, you will find I cannot see anything at this moment." The crunching of reeds paused and Minha reached sightlessly for him. Her hand found his shoulder and Yon-Rogg instinctively reached for it. He clasped it in his, marveling at how it could be so small and so strong. He felt an alien tightness in his chest, a burbling of emotion like an unfamiliar spring. It moved along his spine the tightness and tingling, settling behind his eyes. He bowed his head, work forgotten in front of him and he tried to convince his traitorous body to swallow the water he felt collecting behind his eyes. It was all so useless. His efforts, his task, and the wasting of water on such a barren unkind planet. Except that he had found more kindness in the swamps of Nefros than existed in all of Hala. He felt his body instinctively turning to her even as he could not look up. She began carding her fingers through his stiff dust and salt coated hair. He thought of his wife and how she would do the same when she thought he had fallen asleep, the warm beat of her heart in his ear. He curled tighter in on himself, breath shaking with the effort of swallowing his pain.

 

"Daja. Daja," her voice was so warm. "Don't you know we took your shell when you landed here. You do not need to stay so hard."

 

A tear slipped passed his iron grip. He wiped it away shamefully, worried the water would leave a track in his dirty skin. He breathed. There would not be another tear he promised himself, but he turned fully to her, pressing his forehead into the firm roundness of her thigh. She continued stroking his head and neither noticed the sounds choking out of him.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alter/Altar/alter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear one day this will all make sense. Probably not today.
> 
> Also this is a phone update so the errors will be even more egregious than usual. Apologies in advance
> 
> Thank you for all the comments on every chapter you warm this dear old perv's heart.
> 
> Please let me know what you think. My tiny ego is completely at your mercy. ❤❤❤

Carol was staring into the mirror above her sink. She was trying to summon Lawson. She wanted to talk to her, to test the bounds of her control against her own delusion. Lawson had been even more unpredictable and skittish than her father. Joe Danvers had a way of finding her at her lowest. Mocking her resentment by being the loving father she had dreamed of. He was just as easy to scare off. Once her anger at him out weighed her fear of the world he would pop off, just like the real Joe Danvers. There to light the fuse, but always conveniently absent for the explosion.

 

Lawson she couldn't predict. She saw no pattern. She also seemed to be trying to tell her something. There was something Lawson wanted her to know. Some question she had to ask.

 

"Come on, Lawson." Carol urged at her reflection, bent over the fibreglass basin of her sink. Her hands clenched into the smooth cold surface. She stared hard, was there a new shadow behind her? Were her own features meshing with those of her mentor? The effort was making her dizzy, she focused on her eyes in the mirror.

 

"Now you are onto something, Ace"

Carol stood up straight her eyes roving the small bathroom. She had heard Lawson's voice she knew it.

 

She spun frantically. She jumped nearly out of her skin when she turned to the door and saw Monica standing there, a confused look on her face.

 

"What are you doing?" She asked in the tone of someone who deeply resented that she was the child and Carol was the adult. Another picture of Yon's motorcycle was clutched to her chest.

 

"Hey LT," Carol smiled nervously. How could she explain she was willing her demons out of hiding? "Whatcha got there?"

 

"Can we hang it up?" Monica asked holding her picture out for Carol to admire.

 

"Of course," she said spinning the girl and walking her from the room. Carol's eyes did one last sweep before she left.

 

* * *

 

Yon-Rogg had never felt so empty, but rather than hollowness and aching void he felt a foreign lightness of being. He had felt this intoxicating lightness only one other time. The night he had unburdened himself to his wife, their first coming together. The relief that came from giving in to six years of terse and forbidden longing. As he lay on the narrow reed mat in his shared rooms it felt like a lifetime ago.

 

It had began as a mistake, a slip, a crack in his iron restraint. It had been something she had said. They were arguing, he wanted to keep moving. She called it running away. She had been emotional, throwing the idea of giving her back to the SI. Going back to Hala. It was what he had thought he wanted until the words were spit at him across the console. Until he saw the look in her eyes as she said it. He had wanted to shut her up. He had wanted to hide from the guilt knowing that a few weeks earlier he would have happily retreated back to the way things had been. He had stalked towards her and she had backed away. Her first mistake, because it awoke something dark within him. Something that whispered she was his to conquer. That he was going to shape her. That she was going to bend to his will. He tried to argue with the darkness that he didn't want that anymore. He wanted to fight beside her, he was there to protect her not to expose her to this insatiable greed inside him. Will you let someone else have her then? the covetous voice inside asked him. He had stepped closer to her, she thought he was playing games, but he wasn't. He had been inconsistent since they left C53. Wavering wildly between hot and cold, but it was no game. It was a war. A war he was currently losing. She would feel so good the deep animal thought insisted as his hands itched to touch her again. He gripped her, his traitorous mouth begging her to stop him. She didn't. He fought with himself, his hands moving to her neck, hungry for the pulse of her against his skin. He leaned into her once more, but he felt the resistance of her fist in his chest and at the last second he forced himself off track, catching only the corner of her mouth. Even then, the small brush of skin against his mouth tasted like heaven. The places their bodies touched was where bliss radiated from.

 

He could walk away he thought. He could leave now. Except his body curled into her, shrinking towards her like malleable metal held to flame. He begged her to push him away, to bring him back to reality. He wanted her to crush him. Instead she kissed him. She caught him and opened to him. Immediately the heady rush of desire broke over him. He gripped her tighter, he held her so he could consume her in his breaking wave. He pushed into her harder, her body bent at an unnatural angle over the controls. She had to grip him to stop from falling, her hands taking fistfuls of his shirt as he devoured her mouth. He felt the tense muscles of her body against his, the quivering of effort from holding onto him. The way she softened in places, the eagerness of her own mouth against his, it felt like victory. He felt the relief washing between them. How long had they both been fighting the same battle?

 

He felt her legs shift against him, her stance changing, her body seeking purchase and he forced himself to step back. To allow her weight to tilt forward again. He felt the relief in her muscles as he stepped away from her, her hands relaxing so they could spread over his chest and smooth the wrinkles she had made in his clothes. It was a small gesture. One she had done without thinking as she adjusted to a slower pace and she began exploring him. It caused his heart to clench. There was still so much he had to tell her, to speak words aloud and properly beg forgiveness. He could not be anything to her until he was absolved. He stepped away from her, separating them with a wet pop. Their bodies crumpled away from each other, her sagging down onto the console behind her. She looked up at him with questioning eyes, her lips swollen and bitten where he had been rough with her. She was flushed and supplicant and as he looked at her his body throbbed, mine.

 

He left the room quickly. He turned heel and abandoned her leaning against the console. His fist instinctively hitting his chest as he walked. Each punishing blow bringing him slightly back to reality. His feet carried him to the edge of the pond where they had swam. Each step he took before that he spent enumerating each sin against her. Reminding his conniving unfaithful blood that he had never been selfless in his devotion to her. He was not allowed to have her. Yon-Rogg wouldn't allow it.

 

He stayed in meditation until the air began to cool. He was playing with fire by not returning to the station. He was relieved Vers had not followed him. It would be easier to stay apart if she had come to her senses. He had taken advantage of her confusion, he scolded himself. He had entered his meditation through repetition not of a mantra, but the one thousand punishments for dishonourable conduct. The Warrior code that avenged a weakness of morals by attacking the flesh.

 

When he could no longer deny the danger he was in he straightened up, his body sore and tiny splinters of bracken and tree needles clung to his clothes and marked his flesh beneath his clothes. He would have to move quickly if he was to return before the cold of night descended.

 

He barely made it to the station doors, already his skin tingled and burned with cold. He pulled open the heavy doors and leaned against the cold metal as they clunked behind him. It would be cold in here too. They had taken to sharing a bed. Every night they lay beside each other body heat soaking into the mattress, Yon-Rogg's insides locked down and his teeth gritted as he yearned to reach for her. The exhaustion had been getting to him, it made him irrational when they had fought. Made it easier for the demon of his desires to pilot his flesh. There had been so many fitful nights as he felt unable to close his eyes when she was so close to him. Not when lying awake meant he could watch her openly. Memorize each slack and peaceful feature and learn every way she breathed.

 

It was cold already as he moved towards the quarters. There was light coming from their shared room. The familiar flickering light he knew well. Vers it seemed was keeping warm. He tried to move quietly so she would not know how close he was. He slid into the darkened unused crew chamber. He slid beneath the sheets wishing she had slept here once so she could have left her scent. Instead, they were cold and impersonal. A narrow bunk in the darkness.

 

He slept, his body so exhausted and cold it came easily to him. He knew it was a trap to sleep when freezing but he did not care. This was his Warrior's penance and he would delight in the pain. He awoke with a weight on his stomach, his jaw ached from shivering against the cold. His body shaking so his teeth chattered and he wanted to curl further in on himself. He couldn't. Something was pinning him. His hands moved to shift the weight as his eyes tried to close again. Warm flesh greeted him and a hiss of complaint hovered above him. His sluggish brain finally caught up and allowed his eyes to focus on the hard faced blonde sitting on him.

 

"Is dying the plan now, Commander?" She asked seeing he was awake.

 

"You won't die, Vers. You are made of fire and bad attitude." He rolled his head back so he wasn't looking at her. His skin had a fine layer of hypothermic sweat as his confused brain sent senseless impulses to his nervous system.

 

"I. Wasn't. Talking. About. Me," she punctuated each word with a light punch to his sternum. He curled around each one trying to catch her hand but she was too fast. He smiled against the pain like knives as she hit his frozen skin. She should exact the punishment against him.

 

"I won't die, Vers."

 

"Carol," she corrected him. She only did that when she was angry. "You are ice."

 

"You are not properly dressed," he countered through gritted teeth, eyes glancing at her pale thighs in the dim light. She had only a shirt on. Something from C53.

 

"Have you forgotten basic? I am dressed for survival." She smiled saying his words back to him. "You are the one improperly dressed."

 

Her hands pulled down the sheet between them, reaching for the fastenings of his shirt. His hands found her, flesh stiff and aching. He knew she could feel the way he shook with cold.

 

"Ve- Carol. I can't." He looked up at her, his gaze willing her to retreat. She shook off his hands.

 

"Your hands are cold." She pulled apart each knot in his shirt, they fell open with a single tug of each tie. His flesh prickled against the new cold.

 

Her hands began to glow, a soft heat beneath the surface. It was immaculate control he thought as he watched her. He felt his pride meet his desire. She had come so far since the Supremor had released her. They had been wrong to hold her back. One could not learn to wield a blade if they were only shown the tip. It was his last coherent thought as her warmed hands began exploring him. He breathed sharply against the exquisite pain of fire meeting ice. She pushed his shirt from his shoulders, on instinct he sat up so she could peel it away from him. She was so close, wrapped around him, glorious.

 

As her hands ran over the ridges of his shoulder blades he pressed his forehead into her shoulder. She wrapped her arms further around him, finger tips counting along the sensitive column of his spine. He growled against the featherlight sensation. His body was hers. It had been hers since before she woke on their ship. He had waited so long for her to claim him and now it seemed the moment had arrived and he was desperate to stop it.

 

She pushed his shoulders, forcing him back, his body returning to the cold mattress again. She took his hands and placed then on her legs, his thumbs pressing into the firm flesh of her inner thighs. Her skin began to glow softly. His stiff joints warmed so he gripped her harder. His body was coming back to life, he was balanced on the edge of giving in to her.

 

"You aren't making this easy on me," he murmured, one thumb tracing as high as he dared along her thigh. Higher and he could find the oblivion that haunted him. She made a low humming noise, closing her eyes. His stomach clenched because he knew the sound. He knew her every sound because he had hidden among her private moments, studying her pleasure with the same intensity he studied Kree battleforms. He should tell her but he was a weak deceptive man.

 

"Tell me you want this Yon, because I can't tell anymore," he heard the crack of confusion in her voice. She had found and lost so many things since the secrets of her time on Hala had begun to come to light. She no longer felt like she knew him as she watched him grieve the life he had had. They were both adrift.

 

"Want what?" His stubborn mouth could not form the words. He wanted her to speak what was happening between them, what had brought her to his bed.

 

Instead of saying anything she grabbed his hand that had been exploring the warm flesh of her thigh and jerked it towards her. His fingers splayed over her lower belly as she pressed his thumb against the apex of her thighs. Thin fabric separating him from willing flesh. He could not control the reflexive twitching of his thumb, the instinct to explore, to understand. She caught her lip between her teeth. She was nervous. As scared of rejection as he was scared of success.

 

"I worry there is too much you don't understand," he said softly, his eyes focused where his thumb was making slow steady circles.

 

"I have done this before, you know," her voice cracked at her own joke and Yon-Rogg's fingers dug into her.

 

"Never with a Kree," he growled at her. And she arched her eyebrows. Smirking at his open jealousy. "There are none brave enough to defile my altar."

 

He had said it without thinking how it would sound to someone who didn't understand the bond of blood. He watched her smirk move seamlessly from bemusement to confusion to laughter. She laughed as she leaned her body forward, escaping his grasp she hovered just above his mouth.

 

"So I am your altar? Do you worship at me, Yon?" She was laughing but hearing the words fed the desire that was warring for control. His hand came up to protect her head from the bunk above as he rolled their bodies over.

 

"Yes," he hissed against her mouth before pressing a kiss to her chin, then her throat. He heard the telltale hitch of breath. The small sound he yearned to hear whenever he opened the comm. He had been praying to her desires every night for six years. Tonight he would meet his god.

 

* * *

 

"I sense conflict in you," Behr-Alt's watery eyes blinked at her. Ni-Er bowed her head.

 

She was conflicted. She was struggling being back somewhere that reminded her of her mother. This ship felt like a shrine to Behr-Alt's work and she felt like she had returned to her prison. She also did not understand her charge. She was to guard the Weapon but from what? And in the meantime the Supremor was connecting their consciousness, forcing her face to face with the Terran, playing doctor and gatekeeper. To what end?

 

"Or is it doubt?" The Supremor sounded exactly like her mother whenever Ni-Er struggled.

 

"I don't understand my role, Supremor, but I do wish to fulfill it." She did not raise her eyes, she didn't want to look at Behr-Alt.

 

"She is behaving in a way I didn't predict. There is something within her that is fighting the simulation. I have tried to open her mind so I may find the source of the distrubance. Her emotions are blocking me, she is trying to protect the ones she loves." Ni-Er could not believe there was a limit to the Supremor's power and influence. That any one love could override its will. "I need a face, a being that can move outside the rules of the simulation. Who can reveal the source of the disruption without permanently damaging the subject's brain."

 

Ni-Er fought the fear of the damage being inside the SI was doing to her. Every moment was pain, it made her struggle. She had to push it down and hide her weakness. She was being tasked with something important. And as with all things her life and body were forfeit to the needs of the Kree.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lost/Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY  
> I REALLY earn the Explicit tag today guys.
> 
> I mean for real. AND I FEEL VERY WEIRD ABOUT IT
> 
> I hope you like it, I am excited to share the end of this fic with you, but apparently, we are going to luxuriate in the final act for a while longer. 
> 
> Hit me up with your love, comments, and kudos! It makes me feel less weird about how I spend my time. Also playlists! I had a great one sent to me. Made my day.

Carol was certain her new therapist hated her. She saw it in the awkward way she moved about the room and would not look at her. Carol knew from her nametag she was named N. Er. A strange name, but she supposed it was no stranger than Yon. She didn't know what to call her or how to speak to her so they often hovered around each other in silence. She had done none of the things Yon had done, no exercises or exams. This was her third visit and still, Er sat there mostly in silence as if waiting for an alien to burst out of Carol's chest the way her wary eyes always flicked downwards through the thick silence.

 

Carol felt the rage building. She needed to get her life back she couldn't just sit around waiting.

 

Finally, when she could take it no more Carol stood up grabbing her coat. The woman straightened, surprised.

 

"What are you doing?" She asked her voice cold and bored.

 

"This is obviously a waste of time. I am leaving," Carol smiled sarcastically at her.

 

"You can't go." The woman looked her up and down in shock as if she never considered Carol might come and go as she pleased.

 

"I can and I will."

 

"No, wait," the woman stood quickly reaching for her. Carol stepped away, but she managed to grab her with sharp strong hands that felt like static. "You can't go. I am not done."

 

"You haven't done anything," Carol tried to free her arm from the woman's grip but it only tightened. What had Yon been thinking? Who was this person?

 

They were tussling when Carol finally managed to shake her off. The woman was starting to sweat, the moments before she shook her off Carol felt Er's hand begin to quake. As she broke free the woman doubled over with a cry of pain. Carol froze. She stepped back towards the woman.

 

"What's wrong?" She asked, but the woman only shook her head thickly refusing to answer. Er was bent double her face scrunched in pain, blood so black it looked blue slipped from one side of her nose. She needed help. Carol reached awkwardly passed Er's hands as she tried to knock her away. She managed to get an arm under her and walk her to the bench. Er collapsed uselessly against it, her face contorted.

 

"I will go get Yon," Carol said turning to leave.

 

"No," the woman cried out trying to straighten. Carol was shocked. "Just stay here until it is time. Whatever you do please, please never tell Yon Rogg."

 

Carol nodded numbly as the woman started to slide to the floor. She knew intimately without obvious reason that she could speak of this to no one. That something was horribly wrong, but it had to be a secret. As a woman with a secret Carol understood. She returned to her chair as Er moved across the floor. She pulled herself with shaking hands back into the chair, Carol's eyes never leaving her.

 

They returned to their places and waited out the end of their time.

* * *

 

Carol woke within a dream. She had fallen asleep in her trailer sweat running down her thin, aching body and she opened her eyes in a cold dark room. A room she had never seen before but it called to her as if she belonged here as if something precious could be found inside its spartan flat interior. She was alone in a bed. She knew the room was cold but the cold seemed to stop three inches from her skin. She was aware of it as her breath puffed in white clouds and shimmered in the air. The room was lit with flickering light. She realized as she slid her legs from beneath the blanket that she was the one glowing. A dream then. No matter how real or familiar it felt. Maybe she had had this dream before and had forgotten.

 

She wasn't sure why she was moving or where she was going, her movement was inevitable as was the way of dreams. Maybe there had been a sound. Or movement. Every sensation fed into itself and came out backward. It was cold but she couldn't feel it. She was alone, but she knew she must look for someone. She was angry but the anger felt far away. Not hovering outside her skin like everything else had felt since the crash but buried so deep inside her heart she could not touch it. She only knew it was there and it had driven her out of bed. The place was dark, her skin glowed softly, light moving up the paneled walls and spilling out in front of her.

 

She came to a room, bunks lining the walls. One had a figure lying in it, she knew this was who she had been looking for. Her skin dimmed because she was scared to wake him. Through the haze of the dream, she felt so much when she looked at the shape. He made her heartbeat and a memory of desire was burning low in the pit of her stomach. She approached him slowly, his features gaining clarity as she crept closer. To her surprise, she realized it was Yon in the bed. His eyes were closed tight and he appeared to be shaking. She remembered the cold that did not touch her. He was cold. She slid over top of him, letting her weight push into his stomach. He felt so real for a dream.

 

He woke slowly. He tried to push her away with his ice cold hands. She could feel it this time. She hissed in protest and he finally saw her properly. She was mad at him for not coming to bed, for choosing to sleep away from her. For running away. This must be a continuation of another forgotten dream. His gold eyes were pleading with her. She felt a surge of power. It was raw and it seemed to grow from the base of her spine upwards. It was the feeling of knowing she was desired. She felt half-remembered doubt begin to fade, but not the anger.

 

"Is dying the plan now, Commander?" She asked. The words came out of her but not the sense. She didn't understand who they were meant to be in this dream

"You won't die, Vers. You are made of fire and bad attitude."

The name. He had called her a name. A name that caused her insides to freeze with a mixture of fear and desire. It sat close to her skin like a blade he wielded. Would he cut her or shape her? Would it hurt? Would she like the way it hurt? He rolled his head back so he wasn't looking at her. He looked like he was the one in pain. In a heartbeat, she wanted to ease it. As she looked at him the dark desire faded away. She wanted him to know whatever happened before this moment that led them here, she could help. She was so strong, she thought, couldn't he see how strong she was?

"I. Wasn't. Talking. About. Me," she jabbed at his sternum. She wanted to hurt him but she also wanted to shake him out of whatever he was thinking. She wanted him to accept her. He smiled as he reached for her hand. She loved his smile she realized. She felt the love bubble up inside her mixing with the triumph of her fist moving too fast for him to catch. It was an intoxicating mix. This body she dreamed was so powerful. It was stronger and faster than what she had left behind in the trailer.

 _On Earth_ , a small voice said. A dangerous exciting thought that threatened to wake her, but Carol was desperate to finish this dream.

"I won't die, Vers." He called her it again, he said it in the same way as pleading. A small note of begging that dripped its way to the warm, solid place their bodies met.

"Carol," she corrected him. Why was he not worried about himself? Why was he trying to send her away when she could warm him? "You are ice."

"You are not properly dressed," she wasn't, but if they pressed their skin together they could heat each other.

"Have you forgotten basic? I am dressed for survival." She wanted to warm him. She remembered the desperate tug of desire she felt looking down at him like this. The newness of her power. She felt alive to the control she knew he would surrender if she just pushed for it. "You are the one improperly dressed."

There was a thin cold sheet lying over him. She reached for it, revealing clothes that were alien to her. A shirt that crossed and tied neatly down his front. Knots her hands itched to pull loose. She reached for them, hungry to feel the fabric part beneath her hands. He caught her hand, he was shaking but he held her so firmly. Didn't he know he was playing a dangerous game?

"Ve- Carol. I can't." Triumph shot up through her as her name broke passed his gritted teeth. He couldn't give in she understood that. This wasn't the Yon that made love to her where he wanted and how he wanted. This was a man fighting to contain something inside himself. Something that scared him, even if it made him strong.  
She was controlling this dream. She had made him say her name. She wouldn't shy away from pursuing the relief she craved from him. The shattering of the last lies. She knew this even if she couldn't remember what the lies were.

"Your hands are cold." She pushed his protesting hand, brushed it away as if it was paper.

It was exactly as satisfying as she knew it would be to slowly pull the ties free. His skin prickled. She didn't want him to be cold.

  
She felt the desire radiate from her fingertips, her skin glowed and she could feel a small tingle of heat. A memory of a sensation she had never felt before, but it felt like power flowing between every cell inside her, heating down to her bones. She was so aware of her body in a way she had not been in months. She parted his shirt, the thrill of touching him, undressing him rippled through her. He was so obedient as he sat up to let her push the clothing from his shoulders. She wanted to reward him, she wanted to give him heat and pleasure in return for the power he made her feel.

  
She could feel him press into her hands, she wondered what the light felt like against his skin. She wanted to know what sensations she could pluck from him if her unpracticed hands could evoke something in him he had never experienced before. She wanted to know all his unguarded sensitive places. Her hands traveled back over the ridges of his shoulders, he pressed his forehead into her as she touched him she felt his body curl around a single strong exhale. She slid her hands over the tense muscles, fingers reaching for the sensitive tight skin over his spine. A forbidden unexplored place. Somewhere she would never touch him when they trained. She felt the growl in his chest as she spread her fingers across his back. She felt the hesitation in him, but also the hunger. He felt like hers, she wanted to take him in the last way they had left, the final unexplored place. The last new battlefield between them, but she wouldn't accept stillness. She didn't want him to be supplicant. She wanted the Commander, in this foreign world that was his rank and she wanted every drop of the fantasy.

She shoved him back into the mattress, he could no longer hide from her by pressing himself close. She took his hands and pressed them to her thighs, the light under her skin following her need. She felt his frozen grip warm and he began to knead the strong muscle of her thigh. She would break his stoic resolve. Force him to meet her as equals in this wanting or reject her completely. She felt the determination as a memory while the thick and heavy pleasure of his focus felt so real and close.

"You aren't making this easy on me," she could barely hear him his voice was so soft, but she hummed as his thumb made slow and hesitant progress towards the place she wanted him to touch. She felt the muscles of his stomach contract against her and she knew it was a new resistance, some new guilt. That heated his blood but cooled his action.

"Tell me you want this Yon because I can't tell anymore," her voice did not sound as strong as she wished it did. It was vulnerable, cracked. She was pleading with her own mind to give in to her, begging satisfaction from a dream.

"Want what?" She wanted to punch him again. Instead, she grabbed his hand and pressed it against the aching part of her. Immediately he began to test her, moving against her sensitive skin, the fabric feeling like too much. She wished she could sink deeper into the sensation, become pure feeling rather than the distracting physicality of existing. She bit her lip, she thought soon she would surrender. This new and strange body wanted to eject her confused and starved mind.

"I worry there is too much you don't understand," he said. He made it hard to respond or think as his gold eyes followed the clever circles of his thumb.

"I have done this before, you know," she tried to laugh.

"Never with a Kree," he growled at her. The feelings deep inside her agreed, but Carol tripped over the word. Like Vers it felt like both home and fear and yet she didn't remember it. She lifted her eyebrow at him, confused by the conviction that was forced passed his tongue. "There are none brave enough to defile my altar."

This dream was too much. She wanted to stay here, to fully explore this gruff and disciplined man who wore her lover's face. She couldn't help but laugh as she lifted her hips away from his pressing fingers. She leaned down to meet his mouth. She wanted to kiss him, to know if he kissed the same in this dream as he did in real life.

"So I am your altar? Do you worship at me, Yon?" She was teasing him. She always teased him, always trying to distract him so he would give some small hint at what he was thinking away. His hand moved quickly, protecting the back of her skull as he rolled her. She felt wonderful pressure as he landed on top of her, one hand behind her head the other free to move. The sheets had become knotted around her legs but the way his gold eyes were devouring her she couldn't care less.

"Yes," he almost kissed her before he veered off course his mouth and teeth catching her chin before placing a firm sucking kiss on the thin skin of her neck. Her breath caught in her throat and he licked deep and hard into the sound as if he could taste it. She wanted this, she missed this. She pressed her head deep into his hand and the pillow. She wanted to give him more access, more skin, more of her. He gripped and pulled her hair, keeping her body in the arch she had made. His other hand found the hem of her shirt slipping beneath to explore the arc in her spine. The narrow point of pain where his fingers dug into her hair mixed with the firm but delicate reverence as his exploring hand made a rush of heat and pricks of sensation travel across her body. She wanted to press the sensitive skin of her knees and thighs together and feel the shifting building of pressure but she met the hard resistance of his body.

"Are you shy?" He asked her a predatory gleam in his eyes as he looked at her rolled back head and the ticking of her blood in her throat. She swallowed and she could feel his gaze on contracting of her muscles. He released her just as her body began to shake against the shape it was holding. His fingers momentarily massaging the spot he had pulled.

"No" she breathed, but she felt it in her stomach. The nerves and the hesitation. The fear of disappointing. The fire he was building her body could not quite burn away the ice of insecurity. She knew Yon liked her body, but in the dream, it was the first time and she felt as insecure as she felt ready.

"Because you are resisting me," he pointed out his voice low and smooth as if he was teaching her something. He reached between them and pulled the sheet away from her body as if it was tissue paper. They would need it again it was too cold but at this moment both were too distracted to care. He smiled at her again. "There is not enough room in this bed for resistance."

The quarters were small. They could not sit all the way up without hitting the metal slats above. They had to stay close and curled around each other.

"There is another bed-" she started to say but he silenced her with a kiss. A slow open kiss that made her press her knees together. Her hand came up uselessly beside her head reaching for the sheet so she could knot her hand into something. He slipped his hand over hers, thumb pushing into her grip so she released the sheet and he could rub small steady circles into the neglected tense muscles of her palm.

"Stop distracting. Tell me." He said against her mouth. He was an unpredictable mix of gentle and rough. He rocked his hips between the tension in her thighs, pushing passed so their bodies could sink further into the mattress together.

"Tell you what?" What did someone say to a dream? Especially when your last coherent thought was being slowly rocked out of you by the meeting of hard muscle against raw nerves.

"Either that you are mine or that I have thoroughly earned my one thousand punishments." He said biting a trail from her ear to her mouth, body never ceasing in its small rhythmic motions against her. Loosening the hold of doubt and worry that was keeping her body stiff beneath him. Whoever she was supposed to be in this dream Carol thoroughly envied her.

"I am yours." Her voice was low and heavy from the pressure of his clever mouth on her neck. With her words, it was like everything started moving faster.

He rolled them again, so fast Carol nearly knocked into the cold metal wall. She laughed, the feeling of trust and love glowed deep inside her stomach as she felt the small shakes against her belly of him trying not to laugh. He gave in a small smile breaking through the intensity of his look. A small cloud of happiness burst up through her and she kissed him. His hands against her softened their grip and reached up to smooth the hair away from where it had fallen in her face. He held her there for a moment before they drifted down to tug on her clothes.

"I need these off," he said as he kissed her neck. Carol complied, rolling away from him as she pulled away the stranger's underwear and shirt. He gripped her waist and pulled her up his body, he coaxed and pulled her hesitating body until she was kneeling above him, her hands fitted into the slats above the bed. She was tense and she kept her head tucked into the crook of her arm. He kissed the inside of her thigh wrapping his hands over her haunches.

"You will have to look at me eventually," he teased. Carol laughed a broken strangled laugh into her arm.

She could feel her own nerves mixing with the desire and anxiety that had haunted this dream. He gathered her closer to him, his strong hands controlling her, holding her against his mouth. Carol dug her hands harder against the metal bed frame, resisting the pull of him as he moved his mouth against her. She panted as she tried to stay hovering against the onslaught of sensation. The metal groaned.

"If you pull the bed down I will be very annoyed," he paused to lick a hot stripe at the crook of her hip. She laughed and tried to loosen her grip but tightened it again when he returned to her. She panted above him. And he soothed a hand up her side. He wanted her to relax but she couldn't.

"I don't want to hurt you," she breathed, resisting the urge to look down at him between her thighs.

"You won't," he murmured against her thigh. She felt the small short puffs of air as he drew in the breath he had been controlling. He opened his hands behind her, releasing her thighs, the skin tingling where his fingers had left marks. "Give me your hands"

She loosened her grip reaching behind her to awkwardly lace her fingers in his. She had to sink lower, his grip was strong, he used their locked hands to cant her hips forwards. She was arched, muscles shaking at the effort to stay upright, nothing to dampen or soften the growing pleasure he was pulling from her. He was so attuned to her every breath, every noise that escaped her. He kept her on the aching, shaking edge of orgasm until she was ready to cry.

"Yon, I need-" The words shook out of her between panting sobbing breaths.

"The first time you finish will be around me," he said he said darkly against her. She half laughed as he tightened his hold on her numbing fingers. Everything all her heat all her blood seemed to flow to the place his mouth met.

"Are you trying to prove something?" She shivered as she felt his breath move over her skin again. She leaned hard against the bridge of their wrists.

"The Kree mate through perseverance," he said sagely releasing her hands so she started to fall backward. His hands caught her before she could lose control. Her limbs were soft and languid even as a hot needy pulse beat between her legs. That foreign word again that crawled against her skin making her shiver with some forgotten fear. He moved from beneath her, lying her down on her stomach, he moved deliberately, pulling away his clothes and rolling the blankets over them while she was a tightly coiled spring aware of his every movement. She hadn't realized she had been holding her breath until he settled his body over top of her and enter her with one firm thrust. She gasped as he let out a shaking pant. He lay his body more firmly against her, hand slipping between her body and the bed. He dropped feather-light kisses over her shoulders. Finding her ear so he could speak lowly into it causing goosebumps to rise on her flesh as his body and his fingers found a steady wonderful rhythm.

"It will be soon now Vers, I can't wait much longer." He said in a low ragged whisper. As he whispered this stranger's name in her ear her body finally tipped over the edge, numbing bliss convulsing around him, her mind reaching to remember what was she had forgotten.

 

* * *

 

 

Carol had hidden from the world after her appointment. She did nothing but sleep and try to return to a dream. She couldn't talk to Maria about it and she couldn't bear to see Yon. She would want to tell him, want to trust him, but the fear in the woman's eyes haunted her. Maria had come by, standing on the porch shouting her name, but Carol had kept the lights off and the trailer dark. Even Lawson and Joe had been strangely absent. She felt numb and cut off from the world, but still, she could not face going outside.

 

The world was dark and her eyes ached more now than ever. Compared to her dreams she knew her body was weakening. She was growing thin and soft. She felt less and less since her dream of the alien place and since she had seen a woman crumble bleeding in front of her before returning to normal as if nothing had happened.

 

The end had to be close. Something had to break soon, some levy fracture and wash away everything.

 

She was laying her side in the dark when she felt a crackle of static through the air. Her lights flickered and the tubes in her television whined to life before dying with a sickening pop. She sat up in shock fear gripping the air in her lungs.

 

Standing at the end of her bed was a man who looked like Yon.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arrival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick quick quick shout out to the amazing content that has been coming my way the last week or so (or longer)
> 
> For Fics:  
> [ **Forbidden Fruit**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18550432)by [**AnonymousMink**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymousMink) \- MCU but not Captain Marvel. I love it though, I am addicted.  
> [ **Sometimes Love Is Not Enough**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18801145) by [**Elisha_Boltagon**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisha_Boltagon) \- Also more Marvel than Captain Marvel, but it has Mar-Vell as a character! And she is my girl  
> [ **Tender**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18947932)by [**arigato**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arigato) \- Actually a Yonvers fic! The author is one of my favourite Yonvers writers. Please check it out if you haven't
> 
> Content:  
> [ **EOSDawn's Yonvers Playlist**](https://open.spotify.com/user/mich.lorbes/playlist/0Vd3pMIwa1CoCMHN0ws3sd?si=TP1_qpiAS1Sv_FToMOQPtQ) \- I write to this all the time now! 10/10  
> [ **Yon-Rogg & Carol Danvers | Every Breath You Take [Yonvers]**](https://youtu.be/5_D6pDnru2g) \- This fanvid blows my miiiind
> 
> I mean I guess I could just tell you to follow my tumblr instead of posting a million links, but that isn't my way.
> 
> I hope this chapter is okay. I will level with you I have had the brain-sads the last few days and I don't know what is good anymore. Please comment or kudos if you liked it!
> 
> love love love DH

Yon-Rogg woke from a dream that was so real it left his body and his heart aching. It was cruel the way his sleep could transport him so easily back to another time and place. That his body could be tricked by the conjuring of his mind. It made him want to give up and lie in dream-filled peace. He had found a new respect for his wife, that she had faced every night, nightmares that she couldn't possibly understand. Yon-Rogg was being torn apart by his most treasured memories, he did not know if he would have had the strength to face the nights she had had on Hala. Nights he had lurked far above her, doing nothing to stop the onslaught nor to lessen her load. He understood now how useless his encouragements and platitudes had been when one was the victim of their own traitorous mind. Another way he did not deserve her love or forgiveness.

 

There was the sound of murmuring and the rhythm of a dozen other bodies crammed in around him. It was different than sleeping among the Kree Ground Forces. Here they lay in piles together, bodies brushing and shuffling, moving like a wave. The Brickmakers worked, ate, and slept together; most were former salt miners and they knew no other life. When they spent time alone or in isolation it made them uneasy. Yon-Rogg understood, being pressed together so tight it made you one organism. That had been what it was like commanding his Starforce unit.

 

He and Vers had suffered after the battle in C 53. The guilt of having to fight her former teammates set in after the anger of battle subsided. They felt drawn and quartered as if they were a limbless torso. There had been a shallow plaguing hope that their team was merely separated, that each limb carried on. Ni-Er had been such a shock. The hope that his right hand had survived, lost and confused but whole and alive. A double pain sprung from leaving Vers to the SI, he lost both women whom he had trusted, one of them for the final time.

 

As he tried to shift his body without disturbing the others crowded around him a cold dark thought descended over him. What was his wife dreaming of now? If she was kept floating in stasis what kind of memories was she immersed in? He knew little of the workings of the SI, but he did know it couldn't create anything on its own. It could only pull and re-purpose what already existed. Possibly it could react based on patterns and data, but everything that she saw would have had to have happened in some form or another before. Could she see him? Was he there with her? The SI wearing his face and puppeting him about? The thought made him sick. To think he had accepted for decades the SI simulating another's face to speak to him, but had called the Skrulls despicable names for the same thing. His own hypocrisy was burning him now. What he would give to have his wife be among the Skrulls.

 

He didn't want to fall asleep again, there was no memory he could return to that would give him comfort. He sat up from the mass of bodies, immediately feeling the cold surround him as he left the cradle of their body heat. He stood slowly trying not to wake those around him. The hole he left was quickly filled with rolling bodies, spreading and shifting like the muck they worked in. As he glanced in the dark behind him it was like he had never been there, to begin with.

 

Yon-Rogg emerged blinking into the light of the meeting room. The bachelor Brickmakers room was off to the side. Those with partners and families slept in the small huts surrounding the meeting hall. The room was empty except for Svål. He was sitting at a table far in the back, nursing a cup of the weak and sour ale they drank instead of water. He shifted surprised as Yon-Rogg emerged. He seemed to relax when he saw who it was. Yon-Rogg wondered where he slept or if he was always hovering above those he considered in his care.

 

He was familiar with the hovering and the sleepless nights. They had plagued him even before Vers when he worried whether they were a strong enough team, that they were bringing pride to the Kree Empire. How things had changed in six short years his sleepless nights now caused by his love for a woman instead of love for his Empire. When the time came he would sever his team rather than walk away from his heart. Now, four years from then, he was covered in filth feeling inadequate before a small shrunken God.

 

"Does sleep evade you, Svål?" Yon-Rogg asked as he came closer. He noticed in front of the man there was a second cup, untouched. For some reason, it made Yon-Rogg uneasy, "Or do you wait for someone?"

 

Svål drained his cup and considered the rough-hewn outside. He put it down with a small thud and gestured for Yon-Rogg to sit across from him. Yon-Rogg sat. He was uncomfortable with the easy friendships the people of Nefros seemed capable of forming. It was the Kree way to be aloof, the careful breeding of a people whose survival was without question.

 

"My friend is coming. One I have not seen in a long time," his voice as always was without emotion. It lent a certainty to his words.

 

"Would you prefer privacy?" Yon-Rogg made to stand. It was not his place to disturb Svål's business.

 

"You should stay." Svål said as he nestled into himself to wait. The man was of few words considering his story was so often repeated among the Brickmakers. Yon-Rogg wondered how much of it was true.

 

There were things that Yon-Rogg believed without question. That the salt mines were horrible places, that the small, grey man had lived in one his whole life, that he had left because he had dreamed of better things for Nefros. These all seemed to be irrefutable facts, but the how and the why seemed beyond the pale of the believable. That he had met a wizard. That the wizard had shown him great civilizations and made him dream of building Nefros into a place of prosperity. This part of the story had a smoothness that spoke of lies. That told Yon-Rogg the Deceiver that something important was being ignored. He had never dared question the man in other's hearing, but now they were alone. There were things he could ask now that he shared a table with the God that he could ask at no other time.

 

"You look full of questions, Daja," Svål said without opening his eyes as if he could read his mind. He noticed both he and Minha had taken to calling him this term of endearment. He wondered what he had done to earn such easy love, a love they didn't seem to share with the others. He wondered if perhaps it was just that his Kree name made them uncomfortable. Even though the Kree had largely ignored this place there were many here who were in hiding, or whose planets had burned because of the Kree.

 

"My questions are impertinent. I hesitate to ask them," Yon-Rogg admitted. There was something about the man that always pulled the truth from him.

 

"I know what is said about me. Will you be disappointed when it is not true?" Svål peaked from beneath one bushy and grey brow. Yon-Rogg ran his palm over his neck. He did not know how to answer Svål's question. "Or, Star's Consort, do you already doubt it."

 

"I do not doubt you, Svål. I can see all you have built," he supposed now was the time for impertinence. "I have heard my wife's story. I have been the one to tell it here, but I know there are things unsaid. Things that might change how others would feel if they knew them-"

 

"Is my story is the same?" Svål nodded. "A good question."

 

They were silent for a while. Yon-Rogg wondered if that meant his question was to be ignored. If he was asking too much to hear the truth from the deity's mouth.

 

"My mother birthed me above ground, but I was given to the Salttraders. My first memories were of dark and salt. I had no mother or father beneath the earth. It makes your heart small and your eyes smaller. The man I met when my heart and eyes were their smallest, he was a stranger. A Kree. We do not say that part. We do not like Kree."

 

"The Wizard was Kree?" Yon-Rogg felt his chest grow tight.

 

"Not like you. Like me, he was in the mines because of his mother."

 

* * *

 

"Child," the Supremor spoke with Behr-Alt's voice, it was wet like her eyes. Ni-Er wished they would take any other form but this one. What she would give to have her brother standing before her. To see him one last time. "Child, I don't know what to do with you when you get like this."

 

Ni-Er was on her knees before the Supremor, head bowed and the pain was wracking her insides as it always did, but it was worse now she had spent so much time inside the simulation. Her mother had never in her lifetime perfected the accelerated healing of the Kree. All of her children healed slowly. All except one, her brother healed much too quickly. It allowed him to achieve amazing feats but it deformed his body as his cells sloughed themselves and regenerated in confusion. For the children of Behr-Alt extended time inside the simulation would begin to fry them from the inside out. Where the Kree could take the small damages done by communing with their supercomputer, Ni-Er could not. She wondered if the Supremor knew this or if she had truly managed to hide it from them. She could not resent the Supremor for valuing her life less, she was a tool, a blade forged by one of the greatest minds ever produced by the Kree. She was made to be plunged into the heart of a problem and if she broke against the bone then she would be abandoned inside the wound.

 

"I do not mean to fail you, Supremor." Ni-Er heard her voice as if it was far away from her. "Forgive my limitations. I am unworthy."

 

"The time draws near, soon you will have to guard the Weapon. When that time comes I shall have your greatest strength Ni-Er. Your unending loyalty to the Kree."

 

"I am yours to wield," Ni-Er bowed low enough that her head nearly touched the glowing floor of the simulation.

 

She could not feel her body yet, but once she was ejected she would be aware fully of the damage that had been done. Ni-Er marveled at the strength of the Terran for being able to withstand the punishments of the simulation for months. She had even carved out a place where the Supremor could not find her, she could escape for a period of time when the power of her memories so overwhelmed the simulation that the Supremor could not manipulate them. Ni-Er had seen it happen from outside the simulation.

 

The medics had swirled around the Terran in blue-skinned waves, checking the monitors and babbling to each other in low voices. The physical manifestation of the Supremor, the thin silver wires which formed a cocoon around her swollen body, had begun to glow. The Terran too had glowed. That was before the sensors had begun to flicker and the screens dim. The mother and child were drawing in and containing the power of the Supremor. Only for a moment though, it had been brief. They could detect no data. The Supremor could not see where the Terran had gone. It was this phenomenon that was making them desperate, they were close to the end. Soon they would have both the weapon and the spawn. If they could hold the Terran. That was the question that ebbed beneath the surface of life on the ship. Would they be able to hold her within the simulation once her body was no longer at war with the parasite within? Could they continue to keep her when the fire in her body would turn outwards on those that held her?

 

A small unbidden thought entered Ni-Er's mind. She swallowed it as she fell out of the simulation and landed choking on the metal floor of the ship. As she coughed back the blood she thought; what if they could both be free?

 

* * *

 

The small village of the Brickmakers was always so silent. Sounds could be heard from far away. Except when the wind picked up and a storm passed overhead. There was never rain. Only howling and thunder. Even the sky denied them the basics of life. Yon-Rogg had heard stories that there were places on the mountain tops where it rained, where plants that were not the death-smelling clusterposies grew and where there was more to eat than roots and bird's eggs. As he and Svål had talked there had been a growing rumble, the sound of a storm outside. Except as it grew loud outside the meeting hall it stopped. Yon-Rogg turned his head towards the door, but Svål did not move. Instead of a storm could it have been a transport? That was when he heard the sounds of footsteps. Four men came into the meeting hall. They were dressed in the garb of salt miners. Their well-worked leather pants were cracked with lines of salt and the leather padding around their torso creaked as they moved. Yon-Rogg stood as they approached, but Svål merely lifted his hand. The men glanced at Yon-Rogg in curiosity before continuing their path into the bachelors' room. Yon-Rogg's eyes followed them and he looked at Svål intensely, begging him to tell him to attack. To use his body to protect the men.

 

"Let them rest. It is far from the mines." There was such ease in his voice. Had these men, who did not even greet the God of the Brickmakers, been who Svål had waited for?

 

The door creaked again and Svål stood. Another figure emerged from the dark. He was wrapped completely in a cloak and walked with shuffling steps. Yon-Rogg thought he could hear the low whistle of labored breath. He stepped aside, taking a place behind Svål's shoulder. Ready to move should there be any sign all was not how it should be.

 

"I thought you would come," Svål smiled and said in his low voice. He held his hand out indicating the seat Yon-Rogg had just abandoned. "I told you there is drink at my table. I have had two cups for many nights. You are slow, Friend."

 

They sat across from each other, the figure shifting against the many layers he wore. Every once in awhile Yon-Rogg could feel his eyes shifting over him.

 

"Do you come because he is Kree or because he is the Star's Consort?" Svål asked, a fresh gleam in his eye. Yon-Rogg saw relief in him, an easing of tension. He knew that feeling, the feeling that you could exhale. Vers gave him that. He wondered if the man beneath the cloak was who Yon-Rogg thought he was.

 

"Both" the gravelly voice came from beneath the folds and a hand slipped from beneath the coarse weave to take the beer. It was mottled, blue and pink, otherwise, it was the same as Yon-Rogg's own. "You baited the trap well, LittleGod."

 

"You like stories. I found the best story so you would visit me. I cannot leave." Svål smiled triumphantly, glancing over his shoulder at Yon-Rogg. There was more animation in his face than there had been before.

 

"For a long time stories were all I had. They made me believe in a better life."

 

"What do you think of him?" Svål nodded his head back at Yon-Rogg. At last, the stranger pushed back his hood and looked at Yon-Rogg. He was not a handsome face, there seemed to be a war in his skin of whether he was to be blue or pink. His skin was stretched and sagged as if it never knew what it would like one moment to the next, but his eyes were piercing. They bore straight down to Yon-Rogg's soul. Their bright blue irises were blown wide with a thin gold band around the edge. The man snorted.

 

"I thought he would be taller," he sipped his beer dismissively. Yon-Rogg felt himself bristle. He was not a festival attraction.

 

"Did you just come to look at me?" Yon-Rogg sneered. This man had dashed his hopes. He could not be the powerful being the Skrull had promised him.

 

"Do you know what I see when I look at you?" The man put his drink down heavy on the table, it made the sound of wood on wood. A judgment about to be passed down.

 

"I am the eldest son of the house of Rogg, Consort to Captain Marvel," Yon-Rogg crossed his arms about his chest. That was his story, wasn't it?

 

"I see a weak and jealous man who shot a peacemaker. I see the man that gave his woman to the enemy. I see the man who burned Zendinar." He leaned farther forward with each accusation. His words falling like stones into the pit of Yon-Rogg's stomach, his arms fell to his sides.

 

"Who are you that you know such things?"

 

"I am Gerault. Wizard of Nefros"


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am back! Can you believe how long it has been since I have updated this bad boy? I got a little side-tracked by a weird AU I am writing. Thank you to everyone who has waited for this update. I am wildly grateful people are still reading this story.
> 
> Comments are appreciated, read 1000x and held close to my heart as I work a thankless office job.
> 
> Since this is about to wrap up in the next couple weeks I put an ask page on my tumblr for story prompts. No pressure, but I thought it would be a fun way to keep the writing going. Doesn't necessarily have to be Yonvers!
> 
> Love love love, DH

Carol had had this dream before. It all felt way too familiar, the ceiling above her moving slowly and steadily. The heavy pricking chafe of a blanket wrapped around her, insulating her, protecting the person carrying her from the fire under her skin. She had made this trip in these arms before. Her throat was dry and everything seemed to burn. She knew if she moved he would grip her tighter, hold her more closely. The journey would end in a bed.

 

She knew she should be scared. She knew sometimes when she made this trip she was scared, but not this time. This journey existed out of time and she only wanted to see him again. The man that felt more real than reality.

 

They reached the door and it slid open. It always caught Carol off guard when she had this dream, the easy woosh of metal. The ceiling changed and the walls came closer. He lay her down on the bed, his face briefly coming into view. Such exquisite concern in his gold eyes. She wondered why, what happened that led them to this moment. What led them to the next moment when there was a shadow beside her and then the world would become twisted as the pain began. This was the part of the dream that was hard not to dread, even though she felt everything as if it was far away. She knew she would feel the shifting of his body beside her on the bed. Someone else she never saw was there with them. So much of the dream existed only as shadows playing across the wall or the pressure of a body beside her. Phantom hands that would touch her with care, shaking with their own pain. Wonderful cool hands that would press into her burning skin and aching cramped muscles. The pain making the pleasure of touch even more involute, a spiral of sensation that would begin where he pressed his hand and curl its way around her body through overwrought nerves and broken synapses. Sometimes he would hover above her, his finger tracing patterns in the air. She would follow it hopelessly along its dizzying course, desperate for more answers than she would find.

 

The dream had no real beginning or end. She would awake in his arms and then drift off to sleep in his bed and between those moments was mind-erasing pain. Endless deep oceans of sensation that she found herself addicted to after feeling nothing for so long. It was more vivid than when she dreamed she was a stranger whom he loved, traveling together through the reaches of space.

 

This time the dream was different. She couldn't describe how except that the sharp edge running through her veins seemed to be growing towards a pressure she couldn't describe. It was a deep tightness that sat so firmly inside her that it pressed against her l.ngs and guts. Rolling, pulsing pressure that was begging to escape the boundaries of her body and spill out of her with the razor-like pain of one thousand needles. He moved beside her, wrapping his arms around her and squeezing until it felt like she could no longer draw breath against the iron of his grip. It felt so right. It felt like she had been waiting to be compressed like a diamond into something else. As if when she woke she would be something new.

 

* * *

 

Yon-Rogg blinked against the man's declaration, he was supposed to believe this twisted mottled man was the key to all of Hala. The one who the SI should fear above all else. Who lived deep in the mines, clad only in sweaty salt encrusted rags. His mind rejected such a conclusion. Except Gerault looked at him with luminous blue and gold eyes and knew more than Yon-Rogg would admit to anyone. Events that would be well recorded in the annals of Hala.

 

"If you are the man I seek," Yon-Rogg exaggerated the _if_. He had no faith in this man, "how can you help me free my wife?"

 

"You move too fast, Kree. I have not agreed to help you yet." Gerault looked Yon-Rogg up and down while Svål shifted uncomfortably.

 

"You are also Kree and yet you hold the planet of my birth against me?"

 

"I may have grown from my infancy on Hala but the Kree would no more accept me than they would your blood muddled Terran." Anger and resentment radiated from Gerault in waves. Yon-Rogg felt his blood boil to hear his wife spoken of in such a way there was a dull ache from the regulator. Gerault's eyes snapped to him with interest as if he too had felt the buzz beneath Yon-Rogg's skin.

 

"She served with honour in Starforce-" he was cut off by a scoff from Gerault.

 

"Starforce has no honour. She was used in the same way they use up any resource. She was nothing more than a power to be wielded and discarded when she was no longer useful. Or when she stepped too far in her love," he glanced significantly Yon-Rogg, who could not deny his words despite the way they made him seethe.

 

"Then do not help me. Free my wife to damage Hala, snatch away the SI's prize."

 

"The key merely opens the lock. It cannot free the prisoner nor can it change the course of events already in motion." Gerault sat back and shook his head at Yon-Rogg's frustration.

 

"So are you saying our position is helpless? That despite finding you I am no closer to freeing my wife than when I was aboard the Kree Warships?"

 

"I am saying that if you have not planned beyond this moment then you are a short-sighted fool." Gerault pointed at Yon-Rogg enunciating his words carefully.

 

"I had thought to bring you to my side. We share an enemy." Yon-Rogg stepped closer to him. He would not kneel before this man, he could not be begged or pleaded with, Yon-Rogg could see that now as the man reclined in his chair looking coldly at the space just beyond Yon-Rogg's head.

 

"My mother solved her problems by sending me here. The SI is not my enemy it is merely another behemoth in the same ocean. We need not pass each other."

 

"You claim a lot of power with no proof." It was Yon-Rogg's turn to scoff. This ragged man who was driving up the heat beneath his skin, causing the chip to sear the salt into his flesh could be no more than a magician. All illusion and no substance.

 

"No one can prove who they are on Nefros. It is the planet for the forgotten." Gerault opened his hands to include all those sleeping beneath the Brickmaker's roof. Including Svål and Yon-Rogg.

 

"Then who has forgotten you?" The question was callous, aimed to hurt.

 

"My mother and I assume my mother crafted many more children from the lessons I taught her. They owe me their lives, pieces of me live in their cells and yet they do not know they have forgotten me." His cold and bitter words reminded Yon-Rogg of someone else.

 

"Are you saying you are a child of Behr-Alt?" 

 

"You know of her work?" Gerault was suddenly alert. Though his reclined position did not change there was something alive behind his eyes that had not been there before.

 

"Her daughter is the one who sent me here. She considers it the worst pit in the galaxy."

 

"You know a daughter of Behr-Alt?" The man lunged forward in a swirl of rags, his hands like claws towards Yon-Rogg. He upset the table with his speed knocking the cups to the floor. Svål retreated from their colliding bodies, "You must show me everything."

 

Yon-Rogg caught Gerault's wrists and held him at arm's length from him. His milky blue pupils dilated showing a thicker ring of gold. For one sickening moment, Yon-Rogg thought they looked familiar.

 

"You will help me free my wife?" Yon-Rogg tightened his grip and Gerault hissed at the pain. He shrunk back trying to free his hands, but Yon-Rogg was stronger.

 

"Yes, Yes, but you better form a plan quickly. I will only unlock the door so I may take what I desire."

 

"I do not care what chaos you wreak on Hala." Yon-Rogg threw down the man's hands.

 

Gerault nodded and began righting a chair. He indicated that Yon-Rogg should sit. He did, hesitantly with his eyes on the man that had just lunged for him. Gerault's hands still shook when he reached for him. There was a tension in him as if he were a tightly pulled bowstring. Yon-Rogg wondered if it was hate driving him or a depth of love that caused everything to burn too brightly. Was this something they had in common? This desire for connection, for family, for the ones they had lost?

 

Gerault took Yon-Rogg's face in his hands and turned it one way then another until he caught the small silver disk below Yon-Rogg's ear. He hummed approvingly.

 

"I hoped they would have left me a trail. It is easier this way." He turned to Svål, "gather his things. His time on Nefros is almost at an end."

 

Yon-Rogg looked carefully between the two men. He was tense. His mind was reaching wildly for a plan. They were about to unlock the door. He did not know what that would mean.

 

"I hope you aren't a screamer," Gerault smiled vindictively down at him. "My men are next door I don't wish for them to wake yet."

 

Yon-Rogg barely had time to register the question before he felt the jolting of electricity fill every gap between his cells and he thought he was about to be ripped apart and reformed. The last thing he saw before the Brickmakers' Hall faded away was a neon blue light glow from where Gerault's hands squeezed around his neck and he thought that his face, grit against an equal pain, was beginning to shift as the cells were destroyed and healed themselves.

 

* * *

 

The man that had appeared with a burst of power was still standing at the end of her bed after Carol blinked her eyes over and over. She was frozen in shock as he tried to find his bearings. The surge of power had cast her trailer into even deeper darkness, but she could see him clearly because he was glowing sickly green.

 

"You're glowing." She managed to pass the words out from between the tension in her jaw that radiated throughout the rest of her body. Fight or flight. His head whipped around to her.

 

"Vers," he said the name like a prayer. There was a tangle of hope, relief, and terror surrounding the single syllable. The name made her heart stop. Was she dreaming now?

 

"No," she said. She should stand up. She should move away from the vulnerable position on the bed. "You are mistaking me for someone else."

 

"You are the only one who doesn't know who you are," he smiled at her swallowing against the emotion that burned in his eyes. "We don't have much time. You need to remember who you are."

 

There was the sound of a motorcycle outside of the trailer, they both looked towards it. The man held out his hand to indicate she should stay where she was as he slunk towards the window. Carol immediately stood up to follow. He stayed pressed back sneaking a small look as the light from Yon's motorcycle shot through the kitchen window like a spotlight.

 

"Is that really how I look to you?" He asked turning to find she had crept up close to him.

 

Carol's heart clenched as she got a better look at him. He seemed so similar to Yon except that he felt right, more real. Everything about him was the truer version of Yon. Marks on his face that Yon did not have but that she remembered kissing. His eyes seem similarly locked on her, surveying her, studying her. Her breath caught under the intensity of his look. He reached for her, his glowing hands making hesitant contact with her. He felt like static as his hands wrapped around her waist as if he was measuring her.

 

"You don't even know, do you?" He asked. His heart seemed to be breaking and hers wanted to break with it except there was no time. Yon would be coming up her steps at any moment. He should have been there already but time seemed to move faster inside the trailer than outside of it.

 

"Know what?" She hissed as she pulled away from him, dragging his glowing incorporeal figure away from the window.

 

"There is no time. All you need to know now is that you are in the SI. None of this is real. You can't trust anyone, not even me. It knows where you are weak, Vers. It knows the way around your heart and you can't let it fool you."

 

"Danvers, let me in" Yon was banging on her door and Carol nearly jumped out of her skin. She glanced at the man who looked ready to kick back the door and murder whoever was on the other side.

 

"You're like Lawson. You're not real," Carol insisted in angry whispers. She hated her broken brain.

 

"Lawson is here?" The man looked shocked and he gripped Carol by her shoulders. It felt like there were one thousand bees crawling beneath her skin but she never wanted him to let go. She nodded.

 

"She isn't real. I am the only one who remembers her."

 

"Listen to me-" he was cut off as the banging grew louder, Carol's eyes darted to the door.

 

"Danvers if it was something Ni-Er said I will get you a different therapist. If she is the reason you are hiding I will get rid of her.

 

"Trust no one but Lawson," the man stared at her intensely as he shook her attention back to his gold eyes. Carol felt her breath coming in gasps. She had known all along, hadn't she? Wasn't this what she wanted to believe? That everything was wrong. That there was a different life for her somewhere else. "The SI is hiding your powers. You need to find them again."

 

"How do I know I can trust you?"

 

The man released her and pulled back the edge of his loose fitting shirt. There was a scar. An ugly, rigid scar in the shape of a ring. Their ring. It came rushing back to her. The joke she had never told him, that the blaster bolt had given him a wedding ring. Her husband. The man she had married in blood one hundred times over. She was the woman from her dream.

 

"Yon-Rogg," she barely got the words out before he began to fade. She tried to reach for him but he was already transparent.

 

"Only Lawson, Vers," he warned one last time as the lights in her trailer flickered in again and the tv sprang to life with the sound of a faraway gunshot.

 


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are fast approaching the ending!
> 
> I am posting this from my phone so the spelling and grammar are unchecked and wild.
> 
> I hope this is an exciting chapter and it all makes sense.
> 
> Let me know in the comments if you liked it ❤❤❤DH

Yon-Rogg returned to Nefros with the choking cough of someone coming up through water. Gerault had fallen backward away from him and was currently slumped over Svål who was supporting him. Minha was there looking pale and concerned. She had his suit braced against her chest and her eyes darted between Gerault and himself.

 

"You need to get dressed, Daja," she said in rushed tones hurrying towards him with his suit outstretched. Yon-Rogg had eyes only for Gerault.

 

"You need to send me back," he wheezed against the pain his chest. "You need to send me back now."

 

Minha's small quick hands were on him pulling at his clothes ushering him up.

 

"Minha why are you pawing at me?" He said it too harshly knocking her hands aside. He blanched when he saw the look in her eyes. He reached for her, full of repentance, "I am sorry. I am sorry"

 

Minha shook her head silently and pushed his suit into his hands. This time he heeded her and began to dress. He felt no shame stripping off. There was urgency in the air.

 

"Gerault always knows when trouble is coming," Svål said sagely from beneath Gerault's heavy body.

 

"You have to leave, Minha. If something is coming you must get to safety," Yon-Rogg urged her as he finished pulling on the last of his armor. He had never been so long without wearing it before. He felt stiff beneath it.

 

Gerault had begun to rouse. He was looking around him. His face was no longer as it had been, his features had shifted as if using his power had caused him to be reborn in a new twisted body. The eyes were the same, the piercing all-seeing eyes.

 

"You heal quickly," Yon-Rogg remarked watching the man straighten away from his friend. His clothing was charred along the cuffs. Obviously, it could not withstand the heat of his powers.

 

"It is what allows me to channel such power," Gerault pushed the heel of his hand into his throbbing head. "Are you prepared?"

 

"Prepared for wh-?" Yon-Rogg's words were silenced by the popping in the atmosphere. It was so loud it shook the simple structure they were in. A mighty wind picked up and the door to hall blew open.

 

Yon-Rogg ran to the door bracing himself against the jam. Three small Kree scout ships were entering the atmosphere. He looked back at the inhabitants of the hall, some already crowded together, others walking groggily from the back rooms. All were completely defenseless. He found Svål's eyes in the crowd.

 

"Do you have anything? Weapons? A ship? Anything?" Yon-Rogg felt desperation claw its way through him as Svål shook his head. Were they here for him? Or? His eyes fell on Gerault. The key to the SI. The key that had been lost.

 

The ships flew fast towards them. Sweeping low. They would have missiles. No need to even land.

 

"Get everyone out. You have to evacuate the town," Yon-Rogg came back in the hall bearing down on Svål. They had no time. He forced himself to look at Minha her face wan and her mouth set in a firm line, "you need to go. Now"

 

The Brickmakers nodded numbly, beginning to make their way out the back. Svål tried to force Gerault to shuffle towards the back exit, he shook him off. Svål gave him one last look before leaving with Minha. Yon-Rogg watched them go before he returned to his position at the door. The small village was beginning to wake up, they would soon all be casualties to the SI's bloodthirsty regime. Yon-Rogg felt the hate boil up in him. The regulator was dead beneath his skin, Gerault's assault had destroyed it but not without the SI being able to find them first. Gerault had collapsed on a pillar, but now he straightened. He shuffled towards Yon-Rogg, pushing his way through the door.

 

"Move Kree," he grunted knocking his shoulder against Yon-Rogg. Yon-Rogg tried to catch his shoulder.

 

"What are you doing? Escape with the others." Gerault merely sneered and shook him off.

 

The wind grabbed his many-layered cloak lifting it and whipping it around the wizard's body. Yon-Rogg watched as the Kree ships fell into V formation. He should escape with the others. He had no way to fight them and yet Yon-Rogg felt this was how it should be, him standing before the Brickmakers' altar facing the Kree hellfire. As they closed in Gerault threw his arms wide. The lightning above crackled, louder and closer than it ever had before. The wizard's thin mottled body tensed, and the lightning above grew and coalesced around the lead ship. Yon-Rogg's eyes widened as he realized it must the wizard controlling the force of nature. The ships pulled up from their dive as the electricity hammered against their shields. The lead ship began to dim and crackle. It tried to pull up and reconfigure against the assault from above, but it was too late. It was unfathomable but the wizard had them in his grasp. The ship began to spiral, crashing into the muck beyond the village. Yon-Rogg watched its descent with fascination. When he turned back the Wizard was gone. Only his cloak remained clinging to the wet sucking ground the wind making it ripple as if it was a living thing.

 

Two ships bore down on them still, unleashing a hurl of projectiles which crashed into the huts. Fires lit up the night, as did screams. All around him Yon-Rogg saw the blaze of battle, for the first time he was seeing it as a civilian. Weaponless and at the mercy of every turn of the wind.

 

Another jump point opened and a small ship came screaming in hot. It bucked and wobbled against the rush of atmosphere as the surface pulled up far too quickly and the backdrafts of the fires sent billowing clouds of ash into the air. It curved in its descent aiming for the central lane. Dirt flew in its wake splattering against the buildings and suffocating smaller fires. It careened to a stop in front of Yon-Rogg and the side door lifted.

 

"Get in, Kree."

 

"Move over, Skrull." Yon-Rogg ran to the opening. He climbed aboard barely acknowledging his ancient enemy as he ran for the captain's chair. "I have use of your ship."

 

It was small but it had firepower and Yon-Rogg was hunting a beast whose weakness he knew as intimately as he knew its strength. He would leave no more ashes in his wake.

 

* * *

 

The knocking roused Carol from sleep. Had everything been a dream? Why did she feel such terror pushing down on her? Outside something was trying to get in. She thought she might be sick as she remembered the words of her husband, whatever was on the porch was no more than a simulation.

 

"Danvers, let me in." It was still Yon. His voice was calm now as if he had just arrived for a visit.

 

She began kicking her way out of the tangle of sheets. How long had she been out? Had her body made the decision to retreat into sleep or had whatever was holding her here? A dream clung to her. A powerful swallowing dream she had welcomed with open arms. A dream where the real Yon-Rogg had saved her. A dream of the point where she could never ever turn her back from what he had made her.

 

"Not tonight, Yon," she called out to the shadows.

 

"Why are you hiding? Did something happen?" His voice was kind, pleading. She could almost picture him leaning his head against her door.

 

"It's nothing. Just not tonight." She began frantically searching her trailer for the things she would need before she realized. She wouldn't need anything here. None of it was real. It had never been real. She breathed against the panic. Yon began rattling the door.

 

"I know there is someone else in there. We can talk about this. Let me in," he insisted.

 

"I am alone. Just not tonight." Yon was starting to piss her off. She clenched her fist feeling as if something should happen. That her anger should grow into a flame. To her frustration, she stayed impuissant flesh.

 

"If you are alone let me in," his voice was smooth and sweet. There was a time it would have melted her completely. Not now though, now it just fueled the emotion in her.

 

"This is moving too fast, Yon. We barely know each other. Let's just take some time apart okay?" The movement on the porch stopped as if Yon had dissolved into the air.

 

She didn't have time. If this was truly a simulation then it was merely recalculating. Recalibrating against her resistance. She had to do something it wasn't expecting. She turned around in her small trailer.

 

Fine, they wanted to use her mind as a battleground. She would give them hell for it. She charged straight back to her small bathroom. She shut the door, leaning against the thin pressboard door. This was her mind. Her mind. She said it over and over like a mantra.

 

"Lawson, I am done being sick. Get your ass out here," she shouted. Her voice bounced against the anemic pink plastic of her bathroom. She gripped the door handle hard and threw open the door.

 

The wide expanse of Maria's backyard was in front of her.

 

"About time, Ace," Lawson said smiling like the cat that got the cream. She held up a car key. "Should we take the Mustang?"

 

"I am driving," Carol snatched the key from Lawson. And they both took off towards the low red car that appeared in the grass.

 

* * *

 

"What do you think you are doing, Kree?" Talos secured the hatch and turned to find the ungrateful sod in the Captain's chair.

 

"I would strap in." Talos grit his teeth and climbed into the co-pilot chair.

 

"This was meant to be a rescue mission," he muttered as the Kree began flipping switches.

 

The craft roared to life beneath his hands.

 

"We are rescuing people."

 

They tore upwards through the sky, the small bird pushed to its limits. Talos felt his vision begin to dapple as the nose went upwards and the shot up quickly between the two ships.

 

"You don't actually think you can take down two warships in this, do you?" The Kree flashed him a wicked smile and Talos was reminded just who this man had spent the last decade living and breathing with. They were both crazy.

 

The small ship evened out and they shot forward flying over the village. Just as Yon-Rogg hoped the Kree ships gave chase. He flew them out over the mud fields. He shut off the central vac system, sealing them up tight. The air immediately grew hot as the engine heat exhausted into the cabin. He pointed his nose downwards again and they swooped low. So low he could hear the shushing of reeds beneath the belly of the ship.

 

"Do you have a plan or are you just joy riding in my ship?" Talos demanded twisting to see where the ships were in the mist rising off the mud fields.

The radars weren't working well with the interference of the storms overhead. The ships pursued him, their bellies scraped in the mud. The Kree pulled up again shooting high up into the atmosphere. Just as the heat and tightness grew unbearable he opened the vents again and Talos could breathe.

 

The ships pursued breaking through the atmosphere. As the heat hit them they began to stutter. Talos pulled them up on the screen. A vivid orange was growing around the hulls at a rapid rate.

 

"What is happening to them?" Talos demanded. Fearing for his own ship.

 

"Nefrorian salt will eat through anything. Especially once it heats up." The Kree barely spared a glance behind him as the ships began to fall back through the atmosphere of Nefros.

 

He flipped them and pursued them upside down firing bolts into the weakened hulls. They cracked like eggs as the burn from the atmosphere lit them up. Talos had to admit he was a little impressed.

 

"Don't get too full of yourself, the bastards followed you there," he shouted over the pop of the jump point. They would need to get out of there fast and hope the civilians could brace for the Kree invasion. Every ounce of Talos rebelled at the idea of leaving them, but first, they needed to reinforcements. More than their single ship or all of New Skrullos could provide.

 

"The SI used me to get to Gerault."

 

"You actually found him?" Talos felt a spike of hope, maybe they had a chance at rescuing his friend.

 

"We have to go back to Hala," the Kree gripped the controls. "My wife is about to need back up."

 

* * *

 

"Drive faster, Carol," Lawson shouted over the roar of the Mustang.

 

They were flying down the gravel road, peeling out towards P.E.G.A.S.U.S. Dust clouded behind them. In her rearview, she saw Maria's gold Camaro veer around the corner. It wasn't really Maria Carol reminded herself. Her best friend wasn't here. It had all been repurposed memory and illusion. She didn't fully understand what was happening, she felt understanding pressing down on her brain. It made her head ache, but there was something separating her from her memories. It had been there all along, but now she was aware of it she could begin to define the shape of it. It just made her more certain she was right.

 

Her vision had fought her as she stumbled towards the car. Lawson caught her by the arm and pulled her forward, "it's a simulation Carol, you don't need your eyes. Stop trying to use your eyes."

 

When she stopped trying to see the world came into better focus. Now she was driving with the Camaro in hot pursuit. She did not know what would happen if they caught them.

 

"You have to win this race. How do you always win?" Lawson encouraged her from the passenger seat, her hand was gripping the window frame body braced against the bouncing of the car. The route to P.E.G.A.S.U.S was familiar. Burnt in her brain, but there was reason Maria lost the race every morning Carol was a cheater. She cheated then, she could cheat now.

 

"This is your brain. Use it." Lawson gave her a conspiratorial look. Carol pulled the emergency brake and the car swung wide. Suddenly they were facing backward, the ass end of the car tipping into an embankment. Carol focussed her mind's on the building and the entrance the secure lot as she drove backwards through the brush. She watched a sliver of gravel road in her side mirror, branches and twigs thwacking against the windows and scratching like nails along the top.

 

At last, they burst out on the edge of a lot surrounded by barbed wire fence, Carol sped along the edge until she found the gate. She turned the Mustang in and blazed across the empty lot towards the hangar. The doors were thrown open and the wreckage was spewed out across the concrete. Carol slammed on the brakes and the car skidded to a stop. Carol thudded hard against the inertia, seat belt digging into her. Lawson dug in her jacket and produced a pistol.

 

"Destroy the core and you can get out of here, Ace." Carol looked in her rearview and saw the dust of the Camaro bearing down on them. There was no time to hesitate.

 

She flung open the door and hit the ground at a run. In the twisted metal of the plane's carcass, the blue light of the energy core shone. She lined up her shot.

 

"What are you doing, Danvers? This is government property," Yon materialized on the other side of the plane. Pistol trained on her. "Put down your weapon. This is treason."

 

"No," Carol said gripping the pistol with two hands, correcting her stance just like he had taught her. "This is the escape plan."

 

She fired.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more to go after this one! I don't know how I will feel to say goodbye to this story.
> 
> It's turned into a far longer journey than I ever planned.
> 
> Thank you for all your comments and kudos. Let me know what you think of this one too.
> 
> Also, today is a double post day so make sure you go back an extra chapter if you haven't read this mornings post yet.  
> Love Love Love DH

They hurtled through the jump point, but with only distance between them and Hala, there was not much they could do other than travel in silence. Yon-Rogg stayed alert with his eyes on the screen watching the coordinates tick steadily by. Talos lounged in the co-pilot chair watching him. Every once in a while he would laugh to himself looking up as if appealing to a higher audience, shapeless words falling from his mouth.

 

"Either speak loud enough my translator hears you or keep it yourself," the Kree muttered to him at last. Talos sat up looking at him.

 

"I just cannot believe I am sitting here with a Kree hurtling through space while my family waits for me."

 

"You say that like I should find it natural," Yon-Rogg did not even glance at him.

 

"Will there never be peace between us?" The Skrull looked at him from the corner of his eye. He was as rigid and as skeptical as Yon-Rogg.

 

"Do you desire peace?" It was a loaded question, one their two races had been grappling with for a millennium. Talos scoffed.

 

"With the Kree? Never. With You? Your wife saved my family, I have taken you both into my house, our children shall play together beneath the sun of my new homeworld." He shrugged his eyes looking into the distance as Yon-Rogg truly looked at him for the first time since Zendinar. "I would like my daughter to see that peace is possible. I would like our children to live in a world without the hatred I knew as a child."

 

Yon-Rogg tightened his grip on the console. He was awash in an emotion he could not understand. A visceral mix of hope and fear. Talos glanced at him and his white knuckles.

 

"What you're feeling right now? It has a name," Talos smiled to himself.

 

"And what is it called?" Yon-Rogg found the words between the tightness in his throat.

 

"I call mine Indes. There will be another one yet to have a name. The despair you have felt, Kree, is nothing compared to what it feels to have all your hopes and fears be given legs, and ears, and eyes. So that you must always worry where they run and what they see and feel."

 

"You told me once I was not a father," Yon-Rogg turned away from the Skrull. He tried to swallow his anger and frustration.

 

"I had not yet seen that look in your eyes. It is different already, is it not?" Talos also kept his eyes somewhere else. Neither man needed to look at the other.

 

There was a beep on the console. Yon-Rogg reached to engage the comm. Talos grabbed his wrist.

 

"Best not to," He said releasing the grip he had on the Kree. Yon-Rogg looked at him curiously. The comm beeped again. Talos held his hand up telling him to wait.

 

The third time the comm beeped it engaged automatically and a slender Skrull woman appeared, one hand braced on her low belly. Yon-Rogg looked at her in shock. He realized full force that the Skrull and he were in similar positions. He glanced at Talos who had frozen in surprise. The Skrull was risking so much to help Carol.

 

"Inamorato, what do you think you are playing a-?" Soren's words fell silent as her eyes landed on Yon-Rogg. "What are you doing on my husband's ship?"

 

"Yes, hello Beloved, I am still here," Talos swiveled the projection to face him. His eyes looked up at the Kree pleading his silence.

 

"No more games Talos. Tell me what is going on?" His wife was looking at him with fire in her eyes. It was time to come clean. He was not saving her any stress.

 

"Now keep in mind, I only didn't mention it sooner because of the hatchlin-" Talos tried to sound calm and comforting. Yon-Rogg felt a smile tug at his lips.

 

"Do not "hatchling" me." There was iron in the Skrull's voice. Yon-Rogg was reminded viscerally of the conversations he and Vers would have, it made a spot beneath his ribs ache.

 

"Carol has been taken prisoner on Hala. She and the Kree are-" Talos paused to wet his lips. There was no easy way to say the words in front of the man. "They are expecting."

 

Soren's mouth formed a small 'o' in shock before she shook her head. Talos saw her press her hand deep into her swollen flesh. He felt his body move towards her as if he could reach her across the vast distance.

 

"What can I do?" Her voice was small but strong.

 

"Inamorata, your time is too close. You should rest-"

 

"Give me a task, Skrull King or I shall cause my own trouble." Soren interrupted him and Talos turned his eyes heavenward as if seeking a higher power.

 

"I will send you the ship ID. Monitor the comms and the hangar manifests." Talos sighed as he punched in numbers to the comm. "So help me, if you are not caref-"

 

Soren blinked out of sight, Talos' warning dying on his lips. Yon-Rogg was certain he muttered a swear in his native tongue.

 

"I am beginning to see why our wives like each other," Yon-Rogg did not take his eyes from the navigation system but he felt the small leap in the Skrulls frustration and he genuinely smiled to himself.

* * *

 

Ni-Er was exhausted. There had been much excitement aboard the ship. Everything was beginning to happen as the SI had predicted. She could not go back into the simulation again and she was grateful that it didn't seem to be necessary. She was growing bored with her own slow painful death.

 

She entered her cabin. The door wooshed but the lights did not flicker on. Instead, everything stayed cast in darkness. At first, she swore against the Terran for pulling so much power from the ship that she was stuck in the dark. Except something moved.

 

"Hello Ni-Er," the voice spoke to her from deep in her quarters. She froze. Her name sounded so familiar, but the voice. The voice had grown. It had deepened. It echoed now in the chest of a man.

 

"Gehr-Alt," she spoke with certainty but her heart could barely contain the radiant joy.

 

"My name has not been said properly in a decade. I do not know if I missed it or not." He struggled to his feet. She could tell in the moving darkness that he had grown tall despite his bent shape.

 

"I thought you were dead." Her treasonous heart thudded. She wondered if he could hear it.

 

"Our mother never had the guts to destroy something completely. You must have known that with some small part of you when you chose to send him to Nefros." His words held such a threadbare hope. Ni-Er swallowed against the truth in them. There had been a small hope that some kernel of her existence would reach Nefros and find her brother alive.

 

"Do you hate me? For being the one who caused you to be cast out?" She moved closer to him. She wanted to see how he had grown, to understand the width and breadth of him.

 

"How could I hate you when it was our love that angered Mother? She should have known when she split the cells between us our blood would be unnaturally bound. With all her science she forgot her culture." His words were bitter but soft. Ni-Er felt all her forgotten places fill with the shape and depth of his voice. She reached for him and knotted her hands in the coarse fabric of his shirt.

 

It had been the folly of Behr-Alt that she thought she could improve on nature. To turn the pink skin of her creation blue by adding in DNA harvested at the same time. Instead she had put a piece of Ni-Er's heart into her brother. Even as children they had been too close. As they grew, it deepened. It became love. Ni-Er had always wondered if her brother had grown up tall and handsome, with the blue skin she so desired, if Behr-Alt would have blessed their union. Encouraged it even. Furthering the bounds of her research to see if children could be produced. It had been his mother's repulsion of his body that had doomed him.

 

He was here now though and Behr-Alt was dead. Together they could serve the empire.

 

He took her face in his hands, smoothing his thumbs over her cheekbones. She knew what he was thinking, she had grown up as beautiful as Behr-Alt hoped. His hands were so rough, but they felt right. She felt safe for the first time in ten years. She wished he would kiss her.

 

"I have come for you, Ni-Er. You and the boy. You need to get him for me. Then we can leave," he spoke softly to her. Holding her as a man holds a woman. Feeling like his life had gained some completion. His words made Ni-Er stiffen in his arms.

 

"The child belongs to the Supremor." She stepped out of his embrace.

 

"The Supremor will just use him. Treat him like chattel as we were treated. We can't let this continue." He spoke passionately. Ni-Er froze.

 

"That is because we belong to the Supremor, just as he does."

 

"We are Kree just as any other man or woman on Hala. They may serve the Supremor but they are not owned by it. We deserve freedom."

 

"The Supremor is why we were born. We are the children of its desire." Gerault felt revulsion ripple through him to hear her speak. Where was his strong headed Ni-Er?

 

"You had more fire than this. When did you become satisfied with being an object?" She wrapped her arms around her shaking body. Gerault realized she was not well. He could not see it in the dark at first but as he adjusted it all became so clear.

 

"While you were dead the Supremor was all I had. How can one hate the only thing that loves it back?"

 

"Ni-Er, what has happened to you?" In the darkness, he reached for her again.

* * *

 

Yon-Rogg felt like his heart was in his throat as they stopped the craft well outside the orbit of Hala. The journey had been torturous in its monotony, it felt unnatural that they should arrive to such a calm scene.

 

"Are you ready, Kree?" Talos roused him from his thoughts.

 

"As ready as you are, Skrull" he answered without thinking his eyes locked on the small dot that was the ship that held his wife. It wasn't until Talos coughed that he turned his head to look at his companion.

 

"I have a favour to ask you," Talos looked down as he reached beneath the console. He pulled out a pistol and passed it handle end to Yon-Rogg. He took it, his eyebrows coming together in confusion. Talos coughed again, "If I am captured. Kill me. Obliterate my brain stem. Do not let the location of New Skrullos fall into their hands."

 

Yon-Rogg felt cold. The weight of the request fell heavy on his chest. The image of the Skrull's wife rose up in Yon-Rogg's mind, her hand smoothing her swollen stomach. Had he known, would Yon-Rogg have been selfish enough to ask the Skrull to join his fool's mission? To Yon-Rogg's unending shame he knew the answer was 'yes'. He was a weak and selfish man, who seemed always to survive when better men perished.

 

"I will do this for you, Skrull." He swallowed as the words left him and he prayed to his ancestors he would not have to follow his words with action.

 

"Then we should waste no more time. Carol is waiting."

 

* * *

 

The Supreme Intelligence had summoned Ni-Er and she answered. The shape of Behr-Alt stood before her and she grit her teeth as she looked upon the face of her mother. How ugly she had been, inside more than the outside. Vain and covetous. She wanted to help the Supremor to better her place, to steal glory on the backs of children. And most unforgivable to fill their minds with false promises of serving a higher purpose through the Supremor.

 

"You seem stronger today, my Child. Something has lit a fire in you," Behr-Alt regarded her approvingly and Ni-Er met her eye. "It is time for you to fulfill your role and guard the weapon."

 

Behr-Alt turned to a cube of translucent blue beside her. An incubator, the case barely an arm's length long. A carrying handle in the top. Inside something squirmed.

 

"I will guard the Mother," Ni-Er bowed her head slightly and Behr-Alt let out a wet laugh.

 

"Forget the Terran, she will be dealt with on her own. This is the new weapon of the Kree. It shall provide the spine for every soldier we build.  A New Age we owe to your mother. And Commander Yon-Rogg's foolishness.

 

For a brief moment, the simulation dimmed and Behr-Alt's eyes roved wildly.

 

"Hurry. You will leave with it and go to New Kree-Lar. Instruction will follow. Time is of the essence."

 

Ni-Er nodded again and crossed to the blue cube. She drew near Behr-Alt as she grasped the handle. The woman contemplated her.

 

"I will serve you well, Supremor." She made to exit the small room that contained the simulation.

 

"I am sure, Ni-Er," the Supremor answered but there was something behind Behr-Alt's glassy eyes. A confusion.

 

Gerault stepped out of the simulation locking the door to the Supremor behind him. The Supremor who showed so many false faces to its sycophants never considered someone might one day show it a simulation of another. His hand gripped the handle of the incubator more thoroughly. He could feel the small vibrations in the case as its small occupant wiggled against the cushion. Gerault took off as fast as his twisted gait would allow towards the stolen Kree Warship. The Supremor was right about one thing, there was not much time.

 

Behind him was an explosion of pure energy.

 


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> End in Flames

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, everyone, this is it. The end of the fic... Sort of. You know me I always save one scene for last.
> 
> Always the most important scene too. It's alright to hate me.
> 
> Before we get into it I just wanted to remind everyone that this started out as a prompt based on this fic:  
> [ **Amnesiatic Desires**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18409130) by [**GrotesqueEnchantment**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrotesqueEnchantment)  
>  I just want to take a moment to thank Danni and say that she is one of the kindest, most supportive and possibly insane people I have met on this site. She let me take her idea and craft this strange strange story. If you haven't checked it out please give her your love and support. She is more talented than she realizes and I want her to have all the love she deserves.

The ship was in their sights now, looming dark against the swirling blue backdrop of Hala. 

 

"Any idea how we get in?" Talos asked as the forged metal exterior loomed in front of them.

 

The craft was small and maneuverable, Yon-Rogg piloted it expertly around the exterior of the ship watching riveted panel after riveted panel slip away.

 

"Hoping they left a window open?" Talos asked his eyes scanning the surface. He may be calm and collected to outside eyes but Yon-Rogg felt the tension in him.

 

"In a manner of speaking," Yon-Rogg continued to search the outside of the craft. The comm lit up, they were being hailed. Talos regarded it as if it might bite, but Yon-Rogg engaged the link.

 

"This is Atmo-Port 783, identify," the voice crackled on the other end. Talos watched as the Kree slipped on a bored laconic mask. Impenetrable even for someone used to shifting his form.

 

"I am approaching OSS Dogma, why are you hailing 783?" The Kree sounded bored, frustrated and unforgivably upper middle class.

 

"OSS Dogma is classified as an unmanned medical craft. It is monitored by the closest Atmo-Port. I repeat identify." The voice on the other end sounded just as bored. Inside the hull was one of the most powerful beings in the universe and the two of them sounded little more than irritated. Talos was momentarily impressed by the Kree's abilities as a spy.

 

"We are a two manned beta class maintenance ship. Call sign 42R12. I am the engineer on board. I have a ticket for drain removal and repair. Can you guide me into the service hatch?" 

 

"I just need your maintenance code. I don't have a request in my system." Talos froze. Yon-Rogg looked around him for the solar date.

 

"240304-DGM-5673" he answered smoothly as Talos regarded him with an open mouth. Was the fool spitting out random numbers?

 

"You're early, must be why you don't appear on my ledger. Hold position." Talos watched a beam of light trace the edge of the ship. It stopped and hovered above a small docking station nearly invisible from above. The fools were laser guiding them in.

 

Yon-Rogg closed the comm as he began to guide them into position.

 

"What was that?" Talos finally found words around his surprise.

 

"Every civilization has something they ignore. Maintenance requests for Kree stations have been unchanged since before my father served. They don't tend to draw much attention given the backlog in the system." The Kree spoke in his neutral bored tone, his mask firmly in place until they managed to land. 

 

However, there was something deep in his voice that Talos could hear, a sadness. Mourning a legacy disrupted. Kree military ships had been this man's second home. The true family inheritance. One he had walked away from. 

 

The craft rocked as they landed. Yon-Rogg engaged the lower hatch. They were ready to descend into the SI's orbiting lab.

 

* * *

 

Carol opened her eyes and felt an immediate stabbing pain behind her retinas. She closed her eyes again. She could barely breathe against the tightness in her chest. She could feel every nerve ending throb as ten years of memory flooded her. Despite the fact they were her memories, it felt invasive and jarring to have them enter her so quickly. Flickering images forced themselves behind her eyelids. The last thing she remembered was fighting with Yon about the revolution on Xendari Prime. How long ago had that been? How had she come to be here?

 

She felt weak, all of her body unused for so long. She could feel an invasion in her throat. She reached a hand up and met the resistance of small metal suckers. She squinted through her eyelashes against the painful light and saw the thin silver cables pressing along her body. The Supreme Intelligence.

 

She forced her hand away and there was a pop as they released her skin. She reached up and felt the edges of a feeding tube as it passed in her nose and down her throat. Her fingers lacked dexterity but she managed to grip it and pull it out. It felt like a worm rolling itself out of her body, the thin plastic tubing pulling out of her in seemingly endless slithering succession. She choked against the spray of nutrient syrup it splattered into her sinuses.

 

As she coughed she felt the sticking sensation of sensors running under her clothes. She reached for them with fumbling hands, forcing her eyes to endure the bright light that surrounded her. She would peel herself out of the clutches of the SI even as her softened body protested the effort.

 

* * *

 

The hatch opened into the service way. They were passing in essence between the walls of the ship. They caught through the vents small glimpses of life on board.

 

Talos thought the ship was anything but unmanned. It seemed every dormitory was packed to the gills with undersized Kree. There was no chatter or conversation. They seemed to him like wind-up soldiers. They moved, but only once set on a course. He looked on occasion at the Kree to see his reaction but his face was stony and unmoving. They were too close now. At any moment Carol could appear before them and they had to be ready.

 

Talos shifted his appearance to that of another pink-skinned humanoid. Yon-Rogg glanced at him as if to commit to memory his face before they slipped beyond the walls. The view through the grates was becoming less and less domestic as they moved out of the dormitory wing. Soon sterile expanses flashed by as they walked.

 

They clambered out of a hatch into the main hallway. There was a current of tension in the ship. Something was happening. The lights flickered and Talos watched the movement across the ceiling. They dimmed in waves as if a glowing hand was beckoning them deeper into the maze of hallways.

 

"My guess would be we should follow the lights," Talos nodded up as another pulse of darkness radiated from the centre of the ship. Yon-Rogg nodded, the tension in the air siphoning through his body and becoming pure deadly intention. Talos at this moment could see something dark and dangerous behind his eyes. 

 

A man who could not be crossed or swayed.

 

* * *

 

Ni-Er did not know how to answer her brother. How could he appear before her again and ask what had happened to her? How could she answer such a question? Everything had happened to her, and nothing. She had been left alone as the last true survivor of Behr-Alt's legacy. She had been unloved. Wanted only by the Supremor. She had returned that love with loyalty. She had left behind foolish thoughts of freedom. Of anything but soul-numbing service.

 

Her heart and body hurt. She had been punctured over and over again by her trips into the simulation, trying to extract the truth from the Terran. Her mind as she pictured it was riddled with pinholes.

 

"I have accepted what I cannot change, Brother. I have nothing to offer the Supremor but my loyalty."

 

"Have you met the Supremor?"

 

"Yes, again and again," she felt sorrow catch in her throat. Sorrow for herself, sorrow for her brother, sorrow for the family that could never be.

 

"Ni-Er, you were not made to withstand this." He sounded so soft, so comforting. So accepting of her failure.

 

"Then what was I made for? What purpose can I serve?"

 

"You do not need to have a purpose. You can leave with me. Your purpose can be to take the child and stop what has been planned for another innocent life."

 

Ni-Er shook her head. She felt the pain in her solidify. She felt the blood leak from her nose as she tried to marshall her mind to a moment beyond her next service to the Empire. She could not, her future always ended at the completion of a mission and only began again once she was assigned to another task.

 

"Then you must not stand in the way of what I am about to do." Gerault made to leave her. This was her warning to stay where she was.

 

"Never. I will do what I must to protect the legacy of Behr-Alt. To aid the Supremor in completing its purpose. If I don't, if we are not on the winning side, then why did we suffer, Brother?" Gerault froze at the iron in her words. She meant every word. If he left her now she would raise the alarm.

 

If he stayed. If he joined her and supplicated himself before their master then she would stand beside him.

 

He walked toward her. He placed his hands gently on her shoulders. He squeezed her reassuringly. She could feel the love that radiated from him. And disappointment. She was used to disappointing those she loved.

 

"Then I can think of only one way of ending this," he said softly his hands sliding up to the column of her throat. Ni-Er bit her lip and nodded.

 

* * *

 

The lights led them down a corridor that curved gently as if hugging the outside of a large central room. They had yet to come across an opening, but all the waves of electricity seemed to come from within this impenetrable wall.

 

They had been careful so far, but it seemed their luck had run out as they rounded a corner and were greeted by a bevy of armed guards all standing clustered in the hallway. The guards turned as one and pointed their pistols at them. Yon-Rogg and Talos raised their hands as the guards began to move in unison towards them.

 

"Friends of yours?" Talos asked from the side of his mouth as they backed away.

 

"These are not Kree warriors."

 

"Though, they do seem to be armed with Kree weapons," Talos continued to back up.

 

Like a wave, the guards flooded around them. Together Yon-Rogg and Talos dropped their hands and reached for their weapons. They began firing, each guard as they were punctured by a bolt seemed to deflate, but there were too many of them. They kept coming and coming, their weapons forgotten, instead, they reached for them with clenching hands. Soon hands and arms wrapped around them, an ocean of grabbing tendrils. Yon-Rogg pulled away over and over but Talos was soon pulled down his body half crouched by the weight and pressure of all the bodies in the narrow hallway. His face reverted to his own.

 

"Do not forget your promise, Kree" desperation took hold of his voice as the bodies wrapped around him, the dead clogging their steps. Yon-Rogg braced himself against the ebb of guards as he raised his pistol. They jostled him, making aiming impossible. They had not been prepared to be overwhelmed by a tide of life.

 

From behind them, there was a blast and fire exploded from the centre of the station. Bodies were thrown forward, taking Talos and Yon-Rogg with them.

 

"Looks like your wife's awake," Talos called over the commotion, struggling from the tangle of arms and hands that held him.

 

They dragged themselves free in time to see Carol emerge barefoot and glowing from the wreckage. She was, to Yon-Rogg, a celestial being.

 

He was tempted to fall on his knees before her. She saw them and ran forward her legs barely holding her and her arm reaching for the wall in support.

 

Yon-Rogg ran towards her as he heard the blasts of Talos' pistol as he shot the clone guards who were still crawling on the ground like maggots.

 

He caught her around her waist as she fell towards him. Her body was alight with Starfire.

 

"We should get out of here," Talos called from the tangle of fallen. Above them, an alarm sounded and the ship began to lean.

 

"Take her, I am going to go look for them" Yon-Rogg helped Carol move towards Talos, already she was sagging against him. 

 

"Look for who?" She croaked her voice unused and raspy. The men shared an infuriating look over her head.

 

"They aren't here. We should go." Talos yelled over the alarm. The ship had been compromised by the blast.

 

"I can't know that," Yon-Rogg answered. Talos scooped Carol up in his arms and looked back at the Kree.

 

"Don't let this foolishness kill you," he said gripping Carol tighter to his chest.

 

"Get her to the ship," Yon-Rogg said his mouth a hard line and his face once again a mask.

 

Yon-Rogg turned to face the flames as he engaged his shield and charged forward with one last look at the Skrull's retreating back.

 

* * *

 

Talos was barely able to lift himself and the near unconscious woman up through the service hatch. His muscles screamed at the weight he had carried through so many twists and turns. The ship was in full evacuation mode and no one tried to stop them. He rolled Carol like a sack of rocks across the craft's floor. She landed on her back her eyes scrunched against the movement.

 

"Sorry my friend, desperate measures" Talos panted as he ran to the comm. There was a message waiting from Soren that made his blood run thick through him.

 

"Your child is not on board. Run to the hangar before you die for nothing," Talos growled into his comm praying the Kree could hear him over the commotion. He cast a concerned look back at Carol. If she heard she didn't understand.

 

Talos disengaged the craft and flew it nimbly towards to open maw of the port. Ships were blasting off with no sign of ceasing. Talos hovered the craft against the rolling waves of exhaust and pressure as the escape continued. At last, he saw the Kree burst through the doors into the open room. He was being knocked about by fleeing bodies.

 

Talos flew into the hangar dodging taxiing crafts. The Kree ran towards them. Talos opened the craft doors and the Kree slid his body through the opening, rolling across the floor into his wife.

 

The two fools on board Talos turned his thrusters and blew them backward into space. 

 

Below them, the ship exploded into a rain of fire.

 

* * *

 

After months of suffering the trip away from Hala was shockingly dull. Carol was groggy and languid, once they were braced from flinging their craft away from the blast Yon-Rogg had scooped her up and sat them together in the co pilot's chair. If Talos had any comment as to the safety of this set up he kept his mouth closed. She spent very little time lucid as she reclined against him. When she was awake she had his full attention, but as she drifted off his eyes would return to the star-field beyond the shield. Talos watched them from the corner of his eye as he returned them to New Skrullos.

 

"If you are worrying that you were wrong, you're not." Talos broke the silence between them. He glanced at Carol to ensure she was asleep before he keyed into the comm. He pulled up the message from Soren. "Just before the blast, a Kree warship left the Dogma. Lifescans show two on board. One full grown, the other an infant."

 

Yon-Rogg's grip tightened around his wife and she moaned slightly, wriggling against the pressure.

 

"So the Kree still have my child." His voice was dark and far away.

 

"Not exactly," Talos moved through the message. "The signature on the ship. Its records show it jumped from Nefros. We must have been right behind them."

 

"All the ships went down. How could one survive the jump all the way back to Hala?"

 

"There is only one man I can think of, who could resurrect a downed ship and beat a smaller craft across such a large distance."

 

"Why would the wizard want our child?" Yon-Rogg kept his voice low.

 

"You shall have to ask him," Talos grinned so Yon-Rogg could see a flash of teeth. They fell into silence their job only half completed. The unfinished mission weighing heavily on each. And the conversations that would have to follow. What they would have to explain to the woman in Yon-Rogg's arms. Eventually, he shifted her to the single bunk in the back of the craft.

 

"She will be well again soon. She is unbelievably resilient that woman." Talos reassured him as Yon-Rogg returned to his seat.

 

"I will need you to care for her while I am gone," Yon-Rogg's voice had grown colder. More determined.

 

"You will need to tell her."

 

Yon-Rogg was tellingly silent. Talos tried to catch his eye.

 

"Kree, listen to me you have to tell her."

 

The silence stretched and Talos felt the frustration in him grow. There were things that had to be spoken, that could only be spoken between lovers. The Kree kept his mouth shut but Talos could feel the martyrdom rolling off him in waves.

 

"There will be no benefit to telling her until I can return with our child."

 

"No benefit? No benefit?" Talos' rage hit a new peak. "This is not the kind of conversation you have because one will _benefit_. She has to know because it happened to her. It is her loss too. She needs to grieve or these last months will eat away at her until you well and truly lose her."

 

"Do you think I won't be able to find the Wizard?"

 

"And then what? You return and 'hello Beloved here is our child that I never told you about'. Or worse you don't return and they spend all their lives separated." The Kree continued to sit stony-faced. "Are you even marking my words?"

 

"You have made your point, Skrull." The Kree stood up rigid from his seat and walked back towards his wife. Talos slammed his hands and swore to all the old gods of Skrullos that Kree were not made right in the head.

 

* * *

Carol managed to walk off the ship on her own when they landed on New Skrullos. Soren and Indes greeted them. Indes threw her arms around Carol, she was beginning to grow tall. Carol could already see in her the looks of her mother, but she had her father's grin. Soren was a surprise, her body round with egg. Her hands found Carol's face and her back, sweeping in their calming way. The relief flowed through her as Carol tried to smile. She had so many questions about what had happened, but with all eyes darting between her and Yon she knew better than to begin asking them now. 

 

Yon-Rogg has been tight-lipped and withdrawn the entire journey, only his eyes spoke volumes. He came to her side as Soren released her. He wanted to touch her, but he seemed unsure where. Carol couldn't tell him. All her cells felt invaded and violated, like a toy that had been taken apart and put together again. Everything in the right place but her wholeness had been compromised.

 

When they were alone in their room he began stripping away his armor in silence. She watched him her mouth similarly shut. When he was in nothing but his innermost layer he walked to the shower. She followed him there.

 

He watched her as she stripped away the white clothes she wore, neither sure what would be revealed beneath. Her skin felt tight, wrapped in the mysteries of what had happened to her. She reached for Yon-Rogg brushing the hair away from his temple, seeing ash shake off and land on her pale skin. He caught her hand and pulled her under the spray with him. The warm water felt like a benediction.

 

Carol's hands explored her body, all of her felt heavy. Her limbs with their weak muscles, her breasts, her stomach. She was wrapped in a new and alien softness.

 

"I don't know where my body went. I don't like this one as much," she tried to smile as Yon-Rogg watched her hands. She wanted him to laugh at her, to tell her everything was okay. The water where it hit him left pale marks. He had so much sadness in his eyes and she just wanted to make it go away.

 

"This body has been the focus of my thoughts for a very long time," his voice was a low rumble. He knelt on the tile before her, his arms wrapping around her middle and his hands splaying over her back. He pressed his mouth above her navel, his body against her legs. Her hands went to his hair, smoothing it back. The water was running off him grey and gritty.

 

"Where in the universe have we been, Yon?"

 

He didn't answer her but continued to explore the foreign planes of her body beneath the hot spray of water.

 

* * *

 

"I had hoped our talk had an effect, clearly I was mistaken." Talos' voice cut through the early morning air. Yon-Rogg paused in his loading of the ship.

 

"Take care of her while I am gone," He said, not turning until he heard the whine of a blaster powering up. He turned to face the Skrull hands raised. "I thought you said you wanted peace between us."

 

"That was before you tried to steal my ship," Talos answered aiming his pistol at the Kree.

 

"You know I have to go. You would do the same thing if you were in my position."

 

"You have no idea what I would do in your position. Or the position I was forced into by a war I had no part in starting. It is easy for you to forget that I had to leave my daughter still in her egg orbiting a backwater planet that had no idea they were even harboring refugees. I could not be there for every new thing she discovered, I could not tell her that I was doing it for her. I had to promise my wife I would be back without knowing whether or not it was a lie. Then I had to spend six long years trying to find her again. And you, Kree Warrior, are sneaking out while your woman sleeps."

 

"Vers would never look at me again if I admitted all I have done, all I have caused. You think to shame me Skrull but I have no shame left."

 

They stood there for long moments, Yon-Rogg with his hands raised and Talos holding the gun on him. At last, Talos cracked swearing as he lowered his weapon.

 

"This damn foolishness makes me sick."

 

"Take care of her. Tell her whatever you need to tell her. Be a better friend to her than I was."

 

"At this moment, the easiest thing in the world is to be a better man than you are."

 

Talos turned his back on the Kree and walked away. He heard some minutes later the roar of the engine.

* * *

Carol woke with a start. She was alone in the bed. After so many false dreams and awakenings, she no longer trusted her own eyes. She was naked, the soft blue of the sheets an ocean around her foreign and invaded body. Her muscles were still languid and weak, happier to lie and melt back into the bed than make her sit up. She would need Yon to make her strong again. He knew how to rebuild her whenever she fell apart. 

 

Except he wasn't there. She reached a hand over the place he had been, it was cold. That was when she saw it. The blank inky Kree Glyph on her forearm, following the dark blue veins like a crooked key. She lifted it up so she could see it better. It had smeared slightly in her sleep, and she could not read it. She was out of habit reading Kree, moreover, she didn't think this was one she had ever seen before.

 

She needed her comm. It could translate. Except her suit was in the hands of the SI. She felt doubly naked realizing she would be without armor for the first time in a decade. She glanced around the room and saw a black bracer sitting on the low marble table by the bed. Yon had left his comm.

 

She felt a stab of fear. Something was not right. She reached for it, Sliding it easily over her smaller arm. The glass of the comm lined up perfectly with the glyph on her skin. Immediately the translator began to scan, the glyph glowed beneath the blue tinted screen. The translation hovered over top. _I love you_.

 

Panic gripped her. Yon-Rogg would not have left that note. Not if he planned to see her again. He was devoted, he worshiped her, he loved her with an unmistakable passion. He did all these things silently. He did not leave a trace of his love beyond the bruises from fingertips or the caress of his mouth over the places her heartbeat the hardest. Those faded. This. This was goodbye and she would not accept it.

 

She had no clothes she could stand to wear, but she already felt precious moments slipping from her. She grabbed the sheet from the bed and knotted it around her body. She ran barefoot from the room down the low dark hallways of Talos' home. She did not know where to begin looking, how she could stop him from leaving. At last, she came upon the study. Talos was seated in a low chair, leaning his head in one hand.

 

"Talos," her voice was still hoarse. She could barely make volume come out of it. Her friend sat up in surprise.

 

"Carol-"

 

"Where is Yon?" She saw him hesitate. Her hand came up to grip the note he had left on her arm, her arms crossed in front of her body. She felt cold. Talos only shook his head. "I don't understand. Did I do something-?"

 

"No," Talos cut her off quickly, he went to her in two quick strides. He held onto her shoulders, looking down at the breaking heart of his friend. He felt more hatred toward the Kree than he thought possible before that moment. "No. He left you here to rest. There is more to his mission. Someone who remains to be rescued."

 

"Who?" Carol looked up at him in confusion. He resented having to be the one to speak the words aloud to her.

 

"Carol. I-" he gripped her shoulders and walked her to the chair. She was healing fast but she was still so weak. He wished at that moment Soren was here to ease the pain, to explain her own body to her in the words of women. "When we rescued you, there was a child."

 

"A child?" she froze. He could see the fear in her. "Whose child?"

 

"Yours," as the words left his mouth he heard the sharp intake of breath and saw her body pitch forward. He knelt and caught her before she could fold in half. Her hand covered her mouth as she tried to draw shocked breaths against her own silent scream, her fingers leaving red marks in her cheek.

 

"No, you're wrong," she released her grip on her jaw. "I would know. I would know if I- if I- if I had been gone that long."

 

"Carol, I-"

 

"Then where is it? If I had a child why isn't it here? Why would Yon leave when all he wanted- " she bent forward again. He knew it was a shock. He could only hold her awkwardly as fat tears rolled down her cheeks. She tried to sniff them back and wipe them away with her hand.

 

"The SI kept you. In rescuing you, someone very powerful took your child. We don't know enough about their intentions. Why they did what they did. The Kree has gone after them."

 

"How can I be a mother? I can't stop, Talos. I can't turn my back on a war that is still-" 

 

"You were Carol Danvers before you were Captain Marvel," Talos stopped her panicked flow of words. He needed to silence her fears so she could see deep to the truth of how she really felt.  "You have incredible power. Not just from the blast. You survived because you were strong. We cannot be slaves to the sorrow of others. There will always be heroes that rise from the ash. You do not have to take the universe on as penance for surviving your own losses. We must hold on to joy when it stands before us. We must take what we want. There will always be war and peace, with or without sacrifice, they are instruments of chaos that we cannot control. Stay here. Heal. Make your decision. If you want together we will scour the galaxy to find him again. And if you find you can't forgive him. I will kill him."

 

Talos was only half kidding, but he heard the sob choked laugh break from her chest. He wrapped his arms around her and let the laughter and the sobbing spill into his shoulder.

 

The Kree may be a fool, but he swore wherever Carol Danvers went she would never be alone.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post Credit Scene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the post-finale scene, so if it is the first chapter you are reading tonight GO BACK ONE
> 
> Thank you, everyone, who has made this a special and fulfilling ride, I hope you leave me one last comment so we can say goodbye to this together.
> 
> or find me on tumblr. We can chat  
> Love Love Love DH

This was the deepest he had been into Nefros. He had returned here because he knew the Wizard felt safe shadowed among its salt filled mines and ash covered peaks. Beneath the storm that kept the seeking of the SI at bay. He had traveled through many colonies but had yet to return to the Brickmakers. He was scared of what he would find there. He had exchanged stories with the people he met and heard tales of the night the Kree had come and rained fire from the sky. Nothing had been quite as it had been that night. The tale moving through so many mouths truth became only a lens through which many facts could be overlayed. Like a kaleidoscope. Yon-Rogg was learning to navigate mythos and find the truth. That was how he had come to be here in a bar on the edge of a salt mine.

 

His tales were beginning to grow favor among the people of Nefros. His stories of Captain Marvel always proceeded him and he had the double pleasure of talking about his wife and of hearing her name spoken reverently by those huddled around him. It took the sting out of his fruitless search. He thought he might have luck here as the stories of the Wizard of Nefros were being traded more frequently for his stories of Captain Marvel. If Gerault was nearby he hoped he would come to know the baby he had stolen was wanted. Desperately, heart-achingly desired. That the father was ready to lay his life down for his child's. That his quest would be ceaseless.

 

There were few people in the bar, small eddies of merrymakers and one dour group wrapped in many layers of cloaks. Yon-Rogg was waiting for the miner he had agreed to meet. He would possibly descend into the mines tomorrow to tell his stories among the pillars of salt.

 

A man walked into the bar, his clothes crusted in salt, no hide on him. Yon-Rogg froze as the man looked about for him. When he caught sight of Yon-Rogg's black armor he made a beeline for the table.

 

"Are you the Kree?" The man asked standing in front of Yon-Rogg. His hands deep in his pockets.

 

"I am," Yon-Rogg adjusted, there was a wildness in his eyes that he did not trust.

 

"I have come with a message for you," the man looked as if he would rather swallow a mouthful of salt. Yon-Rogg tried to swallow the leaping of his heart. He had been disappointed before.

 

"I would hear it."

 

"I have a message of my own though, I would rather give to you."

 

"I would hear that as well."

 

"I know you, Kree. I have heard your stories, but I know you." Yon-Rogg shifted as the light in the man's eyes grew. "I know you were there the night the Brickmaker's Haven burned."

 

"That is not my story," Yon-Rogg made to leave. He could meet the miner another night.

 

As he passed the man he lashed out quick with a knife like a stinger. His aim was true and it sunk between the seam of Yon-Rogg's armor.

 

"It is my story. And I know you are the reason Haven burned," the man shouted in rage. Yon-Rogg stumbled back the knife stuck in him. 

 

He had two thoughts interlaid together and inseparable one from the other. First, he thought the man had better have missed his scar and second he heard Talos' voice asking him what happened if he never came back.

 

There was commotion around them as Yon-Rogg staggered, resisting the urge to pull the stinger from his shoulder. The man was restrained and people began shouting. What held Yon-Rogg's attention was the cloaked figures who stood up and came toward him. One moving quicker than the other, as the circle closed around him bodies knocked into them. The hood fell away and all he saw was golden hair.

* * *

Yon-Rogg groaned as he regained consciousness. The knife was gone and he was lying in a bed. He was well bandaged and not alone.

 

She was standing in the window arms wrapped around herself. She was all sleek lines and muscle beneath her armor. New crisp armor. She turned as she heard him stir. She was worrying her lip between her teeth.

 

"How did you find me?" He asked around deep panting breaths. The pain reminded him of how limited Nefros was when it came to technological advancements.

 

"I am fine thanks for asking," she answered. He breathed sharply through his nose. He tried not to smile.

 

"You didn't answer the question," he hoped she was real.

 

"Maybe I had you chipped. In case you ran off," she walked closer to the bed. He glanced at his surroundings.

 

"How did you find the only bed on Nefros?" She smiled at him.

 

"They offered it to me when they learned I am Captain Marvel. Apparently, that name means something here." She sat on the bed. It had been too long since he had seen her. Every minute since New Skrullos had been a minute too long.

 

"It means something everywhere." He closed his eyes again and thought he should sleep, but he didn't want to look away from her for that long.

 

"I know what you are doing here."

 

"Talos told you."

 

" _You_ should have told me."

 

"I know."

 

"What happened to 'in all things those who are bonded are one'?"

 

"Our time apart made me realize how little I deserve you," he flinched as she poked her finger into his wound.

 

"You don't get to decide that," she punctuated each word with a poke into the abused flesh of his shoulder. He tried to catch her hand but he was hampered by the pain.

 

"Starforce misused you," he said his hand reaching for her. "You could have been our torturer."

 

She took a pillow and whacked him with it, climbing up the bed to reach him.

 

"That is not funny," she insisted holding in a laugh as the thin pillow thumped into him. He laughed as well.

 

She lay on the bed beside him. He could not roll to look at her so he reached for her hand again. Her hand was so wonderfully real in his hand. Warm and strong; everything he had missed about her.

 

"Why did you come alone, Yon?" He turned his head and wished he could see her better. Her voice was so small. "Is it because you thought I couldn't be a mother?"

 

"You needed to heal. And I could not wait knowing our child was out there."

 

"You should have told me."

 

"Would you have stayed? Would you have taken care of yourself first if you had known? It was better I face my failure alone."

 

"Yon," she sat up so she could look down into his eyes. "You couldn't have known."

 

"I know you are not ready. I shouldn't ask you to change for me. You should have had a choice."

 

"Funny thing about being ready." Carol lay beside him again, she snuggled on her side watching his profile. "I would have thought Talos was ready, but on Hatch day I have never seen someone less ready."

 

Carol smiled at the memory. The new parents holding their child. Knowing what her Bonded was searching for had made the day bittersweet. 

 

"Are you saying you would have my child?" He asked, his voice choked. She laughed tears stinging her eyes as she rolled onto her back. Her finger traced an invisible curling line along the ceiling.

 

"Have you noticed we always do everything out of order? I died before I met you, we got married before we knew each other, now we decide to become parents when we already have a child."

 

"As long as it all happens eventually the order it happens is inconsequential." He took her hand in his again and his eyes drifted shut.

 

"And we shall succeed or fail together?" She asked moving so her head was on his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing and the steady rhythm of his heart. He murmured groggily in agreement.

 

While they slept a cart traveled its slow way towards the inn. A small grey man held the lantern and an old old woman held the bundle.

 

 

* * *


End file.
